


Let's dance baby, dance!

by xxSoliusxx



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Affectionate Insults, Badass Rhys, Canon-Typical Violence, Fluff, Handsome Jack (Borderlands) Being an Asshole, Helios - Freeform, Hurt/Comfort, Lots of Angst, Lots of plot, M/M, Major Character Undeath, Minor Angel/Gaige (Borderlands), Rhys doesnt let jack push him around, Rhys is 27 jack is 35, Rhys is Handsome Jack's Personal Assistant, Slow Burn, Stranded on Pandora, did i mention lilith fucking sucks, lilith sucks, rhack - Freeform, rhys does his best, rhys keeps getting involved in shootouts help him, they drunkenly aggressively swing dance once or twice, very long slowburn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-23
Updated: 2020-03-21
Packaged: 2020-12-28 17:54:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 37
Words: 182,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21140789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxSoliusxx/pseuds/xxSoliusxx
Summary: Rhys is Handsome Jack’s newest personal assistant.Rhys does his best to put up with a homicidal maniac and Jack tolerates his outspoken PA.Or, “Rhys gets dragged into a whole mess of Crimson Raiders, office meetings, shootouts and Handsome Jack”[A big slowburn. Like...really...really...long slowburn. Seriously.]





	1. Part 1

Rhys leaned back in his crappy office chair in his cubicle and folded his hands behind his head. The gun model was beautiful. He felt a swell of pride as he admired his handiwork on the blueprints splayed across his screen. Oh man, everything fit together perfectly. This gun would make a fine well-oiled machine but only if Henderson approved it.

Rhys slapped a metallic hand over his eyes and groaned. All Henderson would ever look at was that asshole Vasquez's blueprints. Some of which, Rhys recognized as parts of Rhys's own handiwork. Urgh, Vasquez. That damned weasel of a man. Charming upfront yet a slimy businessman only into it for the money...but then again...weren't they all? Unfortunately, Vasquez was Henderson's second in command making it rather difficult for Rhys to prove Vasquez’s plagiarism. But never mind that.

He gave a final once-over of his plans before pushing out his chair and standing. He smoothed out the wrinkles in his plain black vest and frowned noticing a coffee stain on the white collared shirt beneath it. Sighing, he carefully plucked the hard drive from it's computer slot and carefully inserted it directly into the port grafted into his left temple. The cool sensation of a new trickle of information caused him to shiver as the data was imported into his ECHOeye database.

Now that Rhys had a copy of his blueprints stored in his mind, he took protective measures against the prying eyes of the weasel Vasquez himself and quickly erased the information from his computer. Then he spun on a heel and bee-lined it across his department to Henderson's office. A sense of excitement and nervousness bubbled in his gut. This was Rhys's chance to prove himself. 

You see, Rhys didn't want to keep living as just another expendable nobody employee in the shadow of the great Hyperion. Rhys wasn't anywhere near satisfied with living his life as some random weapons designer. No one knew his name. Rhys had no such desire to die, known to nobody but his only two friends, Yvette and Vaughn. He was ambitious. He wanted recognition. He wanted to be somebody great. He wanted to be just like his idol. The CEO of Hyperion himself, Handsome Jack. 

Handsome Jack could never die known to nobody. After all, he was THE Handsome Jack. He'd fought his way all the way up the corporate ladder and made a name for himself that was feared across the entire galaxy. Hell, the man ruled the most powerful company in the entire universe. Rhys dearly admired his adversity, his determination and his drive. And his work on curing Pandora from the disease of bloodthirsty, cutthroat bandits and psycho scum? Incredible. With Handsome Jack's face plastered all over Helios, Rhys couldn't help but feel honored under his gaze. 

Handsome Jack's _ paper _ gaze staring at him from a poster on the wall, that is.

He had never seen Jack up close and personal. The only time he'd ever been graced enough to set his eyes on the CEO of Hyperion himself was a quick glimpse of him strolling through the courtyard one night. It was that and company wide announcements broadcasting live on holographic screens all over Helios.

Rhys was also deathly afraid of him. He knew the stories. The rumors. He'd seen the bodies idly floating past the station windows. Handsome Jack was ruthless. He was quick to temper and he had quite the bloated ego. He'd killed his last five or six personal assistants. Anyone (including the poor blokes delivering statistics to him) unfortunate enough to screw something up or bump into him on the wrong day would not be spared from his homicidal tendencies. Rhys used to believe these outlandish stories were nothing but exaggerated rumors. That is, until Henderson (who is a trusted executive) confirmed them upon Rhys's curious inquiry.

In Rhys's mind, the day he met Handsome Jack would also be the day of Rhys's death at the hands of his biggest role model.

Rhys knocked on the office door and ushered himself inside at Henderson's gruff words,

"Come in."

The office was rather small. Henderson lay sprawled in his chair, feet on his desk. He lazily twirled his mustache with one hand and read from a pamphlet with the other. He swung his feet down with surprising agility for a man nearing fifty, before his hip joint popped loudly. Rhys couldn't stifle a wince.

"Sir, I have the blueprints for the special weapon you asked," Rhys announced, approaching the desk and folding his hands behind his back. Henderson sat forwards with slight interest.

"I assigned you this project thirty-two hours ago. Do you mean to tell me, you've filled in the precise measurements and mechanics for a fully automated pistol in that time?"

"Yes sir," Rhys replied, pride creeping into the edges of his tone.

Henderson sighed and waved a hand, "Hyperion could use more motivated men like you, Rhys, Jesus Christ. Well, this better be good. Show me."

Henderson's desk doubled as a holographic table. Rhys pressed the tip of a flesh hand against the cool surface and a menu popped up. A code flashed across his ECHOeye vision which he quickly dialed into the table. Once he was connected, blinding blue lights sprang to life unfolding like origami, faster than the blink of an eye. The smooth barrel of a gun hovered over the table in the hologram and Henderson whistled, impressed. He flicked a hand across the surface of the hologram, zooming it in to inspect the triggers and squinting at the tiny labels.

Rhys's stomach fluttered nervously. He couldn't help it. The seconds Henderson spent inspecting his model seemed to slow. Time crawled and Rhys's doubts began to stew. What if his blueprints weren't good enough? Vasquez would one-up him yet again. Rhys’s design would be scrapped. He would never become more than a stupid nobody. He would end up dying as another nameless employee of Hyperion. Rhys bit the inside of his cheek nervously. This weapons blueprint was his best chance at any sort of recognition…

The creases around Henderson's brow deepened as he frowned. Rhys nervously drummed his fingers on his pant leg.

"Is there something wrong...sir?" He asked tentatively.

Henderson flicked one last finger along the hologram, his face suddenly lightening.

"Nah, none at all."

He glanced up from his inspection to meet Rhys's gaze.

"Rhys this is genius–" Henderson started.

Rhys felt a physical lift in his chest, like something had been pulled off his heart.

"–almost as good as Vasquez's work–"

The weight on his chest was pulled right back down.

"I've already sent a messenger with his work to Handsome Jack's office. However, your work here is incredible, I think Handsome Jack would like it. I'll send you up there too."

Rhys blinked.

"You mean, you–you approve?"

"Yeah. Go print this out and take it up to the big man's office. I'll let you have the honor of delivering it yourself." Rhys could barely contain the stupid grin from creeping across his face. His heart soared. This was his chance! He'd made it! Holy shit he'd made it! His hard work had finally paid off!

The excitement Rhys felt rolled right down to the bottoms of his feet pushing a newfound spring into his step as he thanked Henderson and bounced out of the office. His blueprints couldn't print fast enough for Rhys' s newfound energy. He neatly collected the papers into an envelope while exhaling deeply.

This was his chance. If Handsome Jack approved of his work then Rhys could finally gain the recognition he deserved. After all this time. This was his chance, maybe his only chance. He couldn't screw it up. No, he WOULDN'T screw it up. He was Rhys Strongfork, the best firearm designer in the department (apart from perhaps Vasquez and a handful of others). He made quick time strolling out of his department sector and down the hallway until he came to the center of Helios.

Rhys worked on the Hyperion station Helios, the core of the company. It was a large space-station currently situated somewhere in Pandora's moon Elpis's orbit. Rhys craned his neck and peered up at the spiral of floors in a circular pattern above him. He worked on the second floor, Handsome Jack's office was located on the twenty-second.

The hub where Rhys currently stood was full of life and busy people. Employees rushed about, ties flapping and heels clicking on the white tiled floor. A breathless woman bumped into his shoulder and then yelled "sorry!" Without a second glance back to see who she'd run into.

Rhys clutched his envelope tightly to his chest and hurried to the nearest elevator with increasingly long strides. He was a man of average height and lanky figure. He had slightly raised cheekbones, an averagely long face and a rounded chin. His chestnut hair was slicked back in several layers of gel. The ends stuck out around his neck in a short clean mullet. He was rather handsome, actually. The most defining features were definitely his mechanical arm and his heterochromia. His electric blue left eye, and his Hyperion-yellow right arm were generally the first features to catch a curious onlooker's eye.

He stepped into the elevator with several others clad in Hyperion business attire. Rhys himself wore a long red tie and a white collared shirt. Black pants and a dark vest to bring the outfit together. He had a Hyperion badge on his left breast.

Rhys quietly rode the elevator, his mind racing and his foot tapping. The machine occasionally paused to let others off at various floors. Slowly the number of employees in the elevator dwindled. From four, to three, to two, to Rhys. At it's final stop, the elevator dinged and Rhys nearly jumped out of his skin. Whether it was from excitement or the looming threat in the back of his mind that if he fucked this up he would literally be killed, Rhys wasn't sure. Probably a bit of both.

This was his stop. Floor 22. Rhys took a timid step out of the elevator. His flesh hand was trembling and his face quickly flushed as the reality of his situation hit him like a brick. This whole situation was a matter of life or death, literally. He mopped the beads of sweat off his face with the sleeve of his shirt and forced himself to swallow. He took a deep breath, quelling his racing nerves. There was no turning back now. He squared his shoulders and willed himself to breath. Smoothing out his vest and puffing out his chest he glanced down the hallway in front of him. At the end was a tall, pleasant green potted plant. Above it was a poster of Handsome Jack's handsome profile with the lettering "Hyperion"

Down the right hand hallway located on the lefthand wall was a metal sliding door with a gold H emblazoned in the center. Rhys made a steady line for it, forcing himself to breath as his anxiety rose. This was fine. He would be fine. His blueprint was flawless. Handsome Jack would accept it and Rhys wouldn't have to fear for his life! 

Hopefully.

Rhys paused at the silver door, his mind freezing up. This was a new obstacle in his path. What was he supposed to do at this stage? Knock? He warily glanced about but there was nobody else in the halls. Steeling his nerves, Rhys raised a timid metal hand and prepared to knock, when a disembodied female voice came through hidden speakers.

"Please state your business."

Rhys made eye contact with the blinking red surveillance camera stationed above him.

"Mr. Henderson sent me...miss. I'm delivering blueprints to Handsome Jack," he proclaimed. His heart hammered loudly against his chest. 

The doors slid open to reveal a short miniature corridor with another sliding door at the other end but this one painted gold. Rhys stepped over the threshold and cautiously poked his head into the new area to look around. This couldn't be Handsome Jack's office, could it? No. A plain desk was pushed off to the right side. Stationed behind it was a young woman with short curly hair and thinly rimmed glasses. She peered at him from behind her computer. She was very, very pretty.

"Hi," Rhys blushed, suddenly feeling even weaker. 

"My name is Rhys," he managed, sticking out a fleshy hand. This woman must be Handsome Jacks personal assistant. The woman stood, she wore a black vest with a tight, yellow striped pencil skirt. She took his hand gave it a firm friendly shake.

"I'm Meg, Jack's secretary," she replied with a smile.

"It is very prett-nice to meet you," Rhys stuttered, withdrawing his hand. She returned to her seat behind the computer.

"Nice to meet you too," she said brightly before promptly burying herself in her work again. Rhys swallowed tightly, suddenly reminded of just what was at stake beyond that next gold door. This was it. The final stretch. Most of Rhys's fears lay just beyond that door, as well as his hopes. Rubbing his hands together nervously, Rhys sucked in one last breath and exhaled deeply. 

_I shouldn't be nervous right now. I'll be fine. _

"Er...is he ready to see me?"

Meg glanced at her watch.

"Oh right. Yeah, he should be ready by now." 

Rhys nodded, blinking profusely. He unconsciously ran a hand through his gelled hair, smoothing and patting it down, assuring himself no embarrassing licks stuck out the wrong direction. He was about to have the meeting of a lifetime.

"Oh and...Rhys was it...? A little advice, whatever you do, even if he's unfair or is dissatisfied about your work, do NOT talk back to him," Meg leaned around her monitor in order to meet Rhys's gaze, a serious glint in her eyes. 

“It would be a shame if this was both our first and last meeting, you seem like a nice fellow,” she continued with a grimace. Rhys followed her action as she raised a finger and pushed down a small red button on the desk. Rhys watched as the final barrier between him and his hopes and fears, the golden door into Handsome Jack's office, slid open with a satisfying click.

"Good luck."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made some editing mistakes and poor word choice,, I’ll fix that soon. I can’t believe I used “already” in the same sentence twice lmaooooo I’m illiterate
> 
> EDIT: ok i fixed it, next chapter will be out in a day or two...probably


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When i put slow burn in the tags, i meant it.

The sight that lay behind the golden door wasn’t a good first impression on Rhys. He hadn't been sure what to expect, but it certainly wasn't this. The first sight he got for Handsome Jack’s office was a pleading bloodied man dragging himself by the fingernails towards Rhys. Several ripe bruises and shattered nose decorated his face. Broken, feeble fingers outstretched in a last (and incredibly pitiful) ditch attempt to escape the confines of Handsome Jack's office. There was a crazed, pleading look in the man's crimson eyes. As he crawled forwards, Rhys took a nervous step back.

“You. You gotta help me,” the man gurgled, blood spluttering from his mouth. A loud crack rang through the room and Rhys watched his outstretched hand fall to the carpet with a dull thud. He lay face down on the floor, a bullet smoking in the back of his skull. Rhys let out a strangled yelp and scrambled backward, stumbling into the steel wall of the door, which had silently closed behind him. The heavy metallic scent of fresh blood washed over his senses in a drowning wave. Eyes watering, he covered his nose and looked away from the ripe dead man lying in a pool of his own substance. Blood pumped steadily from the quarter-sized hole in his brain. 

Rhys’s head spun at the sight and the wretched blood smell. He squeezed his eyes shut, forcing the contents of his breakfast to stay put. Head spinning, he inhaled several deep breaths before daring to peak at the corpse before him. The man was in fact, very dead. Good observation Rhys. Good observation. Now who'd killed him?

“They always go and make a mess in my office. Couldn’t you have some respect and die a little less–yeesh I don’t know, MESSY?” 

Rhys’s attention snapped up to the owner of the angry shout. Lo and behold. Handsome Jack, the man himself. He stood behind the corpse, hands on his hips and a pistol in his right grip. He was squinting his eyes at the corpse begrudgingly. Rhys sucked in a breath. Handsome Jack appeared identical to the artistic renditions of his posters. Although at the moment he was covered head to toe in a splatter of crimson. He had high defining cheekbones and a sturdy jawline. His dark eyebrows sharply defined the outlines of his eyes–one blue and one green.

The metal clasps fusing his real skin to the paler faux skin of his mask gleamed sharply in the light. As Rhys's studied him, he began to wonder if the mask was actually real skin. Rhys had heard stories about that. Quickly re-railing his train of thought, Rhys shook his head and glanced down at his shoes. He had much bigger problems to worry about at the moment than if Handsome Jack’s mask was real human skin or not. At the moment he should probably be worrying about how quickly Handsome Jack could kill him.

“Hey!” 

Rhys’s head jerked up and he snapped to attention back to Handsome Jack. The blood in Rhys's face drained upon realizing the barrel of the gun was now aimed between his own eyes. This was it. Rhys was about to die. 

“Think fast!”

A metallic shriek hurtled past his ear. The bullet whizzed near enough to singe the edges of Rhys’s hair. He let out a rather embarrassing cry of surprise and instinctively shielded his face with his metal arm. He flinched as raucous laughter reached his ears. Warily peaking over the metal plates of his arm, he observed Handsome Jack doubled over, hands on his knees heaving out laughter. 

“Oh my GOD! Y–You should’ve seen the look on your–” he cried out breathlessly, wiping a tear from his eye. 

“–face!” He bellowed, chest heaving with mirth. 

“Oh man that was priceless!” He managed out, vaguely pointing at Rhys. “Th–that was even better than the face of this one bandit this one time when I told her I’d rip off her ears, _ right before I ripped off her ears!_” 

As Handsome Jack wheezed harder, Rhys could do nothing but stare in a mixture of fascination and horror. He blinked twice and pinched himself to reassure himself that this was reality. Rhys bit the inside of his cheek, silently observing Handsome Jack's uncontrollable fit of wheezing. Rhys had daydreamed about meeting Handsome Jack many a time before, but none of the scenarios he’d cooked up were ever like this. He stood stiffly near the door, frozen in fear still clutching the envelope. He swallowed nervously. What should he do? Should he..should he join in the laughter? Or would that make him look stupid? 

Just as Rhys had come to a risky decision, he was spared as Handsome Jack gave one last final hoot. 

“That was just–too good,” he sniffed. In an instant, he straightened up, putting his hands on his hips, laughter replaced with a small grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. His composure snapped upright on the flip of a dime. He waggled a finger at Rhys suspiciously. 

“Who are you? Who sent you? If you’re another one of these _ idiots–_” The CEO’s voice swelled with an instantaneous rage that disappeared quick as it rose. 

“–here for political assassination, don’t bother! He–” Handsome Jack broke off his line of questioning to cast a glare accompanied by a venomous kick and a ghastly crunch in the dead man's ribs. 

“–already screwed up my day!”

Rhys licked his lips and cast a nervous glance at the broken body on the floor. 

“Henderson sent me, sir.”

“Well then I’ll shoot you right here and now because I’ve already got the blueprints from Henderson’s department,” Handsome Jack said a little too nonchalantly. Rhys’s blood drained from his cheeks and he must have visibly paled because Handsome Jack let out a chuckle and waved a hand.

“Heyyy...hey I’m kidding, it's not your fault Henderson’s a racist with a kitten fighting ring. It's no surprise he's an idiot as well!”

“Erm...Actually, he had one more set of blueprints, sir,” Rhys started tentatively. “They're mine.”

Handsome Jack turned and made his way up behind his desk before flopping down onto that massive golden chair of his. He kicked back, putting his feet up on the table scattering a pile of papers off his desk that fluttered wildly to the floor.

“Let's have a look shall we……...?” he trailed off expectantly quirking an eyebrow. His expression dropped a little at Rhys’s silent unmoving figure still standing in the door. 

“Your name, sweetheart?”

“I–My name is Rhys, sir,” he stuttered out feeling his face grow hot. 

“Okay Rhysie. Take a seat,” Handsome Jack gestured to the small office chair on the opposite side of the desk. Rhys duly noted how tiny and unimportant compared to its large golden counterpart. Making his way across the floor, he carefully stepped over the mess of the man sprawled on the ground. He avoided dirtying his shoes with blood.

The office was massive, the ceiling towered high above him. Around the room, papers were scattered everywhere, overflowing across the CEO’s desk, littering the space around it. The untidiness seemed a bit out-of-place for a great grand office such as this. Massive bay windows stretched across behind Handsome Jack, the curvature of Pandora and glittering stars filling the magnificent view. 

Rhys gingerly sat down in the office chair at the desk opposite Handsome Jack. Rhys's eyes darted around, finding anything to focus on besides the CEO’s piercing gaze. 

“Pumpkin, hey. Look at me,” he demanded, snapping his fingers. Rhys immediately jerked his attention to Handsome Jack’s face. He was still stiff and dead silent, unsure of anything remarkable to say to the man before him. 

“Ease up, will ya? Give me the blueprints.”

As Rhys handed them over, his pulse quickened and a dull throb began beating in his chest. His fingers curled over the edges of the office chair as he watched Handsome Jack pry open the envelope. Holy shit, Rhys had made it. This was it, his shot at recognition was happening. It was happening right at this moment. Rhys was confident on his work, the blueprints Handsome Jack held were the best documents Rhys had ever created.

Rhys watched Handsome Jack’s every move, every twitch and dimple in the expression of his mask. It was then he came to the realization that the high cheekbones and sharp jawline indeed made the CEO very, incredibly, _ handsome. _He pushed that thought away, choking it down in the depths of his mind. That was a dumb thought to be having because right now, the only beautiful thing Rhys could think about were his weapon blueprints. Would Handsome Jack approve of them? 

At long last, he got an answer to his burning question. Handsome Jack let out a heavy sigh and tossed Rhys’s papers aside.

Along with it, Rhys’s feelings. His heart sank. He felt his throat choke up and hot tears prick the corners in his eyes. Those blueprints were his chance, his one single chance. Rhys clenched his jaw shut. Sandbags. It felt like several sandbags had been dropped on his gut leaving a heavy feeling in his chest.

“I should just fire your entire department. Hah! Imagine the looks on everyone's face,” Handsome Jack chuckled at his own dark joke. 

“Sorry sugar, not as good as the other one. Gosh, what was his name? Valery? Valdez...Vasquez! Thats it!”

A muscle in Rhys’s temple involuntarily twitched. Frustration bubbled up from below but he kept his mouth firmly glued shut, remembering Meg’s warning about back talk.  
So Vasquez had one-upped him again? No. This couldn’t be right. Rhys had pulled an all nighter for this project, he’d poured in so much effort and stress and all he got out of it was a classic _ “Vasquez is better._” This wasn't fair. The armrest of the office chair began cutting into his fingers from his tight shaking grip. He tried to exhale deeply and quell the anger boiling in his blood. Out. In. 

_ Calm down, Rhys. _ His inner self tried to rationalize the situation. _ This is Handsome Jack you’re being judged by. Of course it’s going to be harsh. What did you expect? Special treatment and a raise? _

Handsome Jack swung to his feet, placing his hands on his hips. He looked down at Rhys with narrowed eyes, studying him. 

“What should I do with you? I could kill ya, heh it might make me feel better, I’ve had a pretty bad day,” he chuckled, emphasizing the -ty syllable in ‘pretty.’ 

Rhys blinked rapidly, intently studying the texture of the desk in front of him. His wits were scattered and his thoughts scrambled in a frenzied mess in brain. All the while he kept telling himself, _ Don’t do it, keep your pretty mouth shut. Don’t say anything, keep your cool–_

“Consider my blueprints, that’s what you should do. Sir.”

That should not have slipped out. Fuck. Rhys’s eyes narrowed. He glared upwards at Jack with a cool expression despite the floodgates opening up inside him and a tidal wave of panic crashing over his head. The vibe in the room drew taught. A single bead of sweat dripped down his forehead. Shit, if Handsome Jack was considering letting him go alive before, he was definitely going to shoot Rhys in the head now. Or strangle him with his bare hands. The few seconds of stunned silence dragged on until–

“HAH! Holy shit! I was thinking of lettin' you off easy but now killing you seems a bit more on the table!” Handsome Jack threw back his head and laughed. Slapping a hand on the desk he suddenly sighed, drawing his pistol from underneath his coat. 

“All right, get on your knees Rhysie. Beg the hero for forgiveness. Plead for your life. And make it good. I've had a bad day so I want you to give it everything you’ve got,” he demanded, dubiously examining the barrel of the pistol in his hands. Rhys somehow managed to rise from the chair to his feet, meeting Handsome Jack's condescending, infuriated gaze. A toothy grin still plastered his mask. This time, there was a much heavier threat behind that trademark smile. 

Rhys had nothing left to lose now. Except maybe his sock collection. If he was most definitely about offed by the CEO of Hyperion himself, Rhys might as well make a statement about it. Adrenaline flooded his veins rushing through his body from head to toe. The fingers in his metallic hand twitched. Blood pounded in his ears. Crossing his arms, he gave Handsome Jack a stubborn glare.

“No. I won't.”

There was a lighting fast blur of movement that whipped across the table. 

“_Nobody _ tells Handsome Jack _ ‘no’, _sugar.”

In an instant Rhys found himself yanked forwards by the collar of his shirt over the desk. He spluttered in an undignified manner, gasping for air as the freezing cold tip of Handsome Jack’s pistol jammed painfully against his temple. He tried to push himself away and off the desk but Handsome Jack’s fistful of his shirt collar was pure steel. He forced Rhys’s chin upwards and snarled, a deadly grin stretching from ear to ear. 

“I’ll be generous. You have six last words. Make them count, or at least something entertaining to put on your gravestone.”

“I put in _so much _effort for those prints. They're better than Vasquez’s and you know it. I don't care about you, I’m honored to die at the hands of _ the _ Handsome Jack, but I _ want my recognition, _” Rhys spluttered out. His robotic hand scrabbled at the taught arm holding him. He could feel the fingers locked around his throat tighten. 

Rhys took himself by surprise actually. It wasn’t easy getting all that out with a gun to your head and steely fingers crushing your windpipe. 

“That was more than six words.”

Rhys squeezed his eyes shut and braced himself, ready to feel the final crush and his windpipe collapse. Instead the pressure around his throat ceased and Rhys was thrown backwards several feet. He hit the ground with a hard _ oof _ and lay on his back gasping for air, wind knocked from his lungs. He’d harshly landed in a pool of blood smeared into the carpet, permanently staining his clothing. But who cared about the clothes because,

_ Holy shit I'm alive._

Scrambling upright into a seated position on the carpet, he warily eyed Handsome Jack hopping down from the raised platform his desk sat on. 

The pistol that had been against Rhys's temple moments earlier was back in its place, swinging on a loop at Handsome Jack’s hip. His tall shadow loomed over Rhys’s figure, helpless on the floor. A powerful purple glow rolled off Handsome Jack's silhouette from the lighting of outer space in the bay windows behind him. Rhys rubbed his bruised purple throat, overcome by a fit of coughing. 

“It takes some serious guts to pull that one off, cupcake,” Handsome Jack said, glaring down at the feeble man on the floor below him. For the first time, laughter wasn’t dancing around the edges of his tone. Rhys wasn’t sure if that was good for his current situation, or terribly terribly bad. 

“Thank you, sir,” he managed out, rubbing his neck. Handsome Jack’s chokehold had completely sobered up Rhys from the frustration he’d felt previously. His wits had finally collected themselves. 

A new light glittered in Handsome Jack’s piercing gaze. He gave a huff and turned, striding back up to his desk. Rhys watched tentatively as he sat back down in his large yellow chair, resting his head on his hand in a sideways tilt. 

“I like you.”

Rhys could hardly believe his ears. 

“I–Th–thank you, sir,” he stammered out. 

“Jack.” 

“What?”

“Call me Jack. None of this ‘sir’ business. Too formal. Leave out the Handsome, to long. Just Jack. Short, sweet and simple. Now thank me again.”

“Uh, thank you, Jack.”

“Much better!” 

Jack sat forward, peering down at Rhys with distaste who was still positioned in an uncomfortable half-sit on the floor. 

“You're getting blood on your shirt. Get up. Don’t you have any decency?” 

Rhys scrambled upright off the dirty carpet and was on his feet in an instant. He instinctively tried to brush off the bloodstains before it dawned on him they were permanently smeared. The gestures made him look pretty dumb. Jack snorted at his disheveled haywire form.

“Yeah, you’ll do,” he mused, narrowing his eyes. 

“Okay, I’m gonna give it to you short. You’ve probably heard rumors floating around that this incredibly Handsome man before you airlocked his last six personal assistants,” Jack began with a loose wave.

Rhys’s heart skipped a beat. 

“I mean, I was gonna kill ya, but now I think it would be better to keep you around, keep things interesting,” Jack contemplated. A shadow crossed his face. 

“Everything nowadays is boring. All I get is the usual ‘_oh Handsome Jack, you’re so great! Oh Handsome Jack please don’t chop of my fingers and mail them to each of my family members!’ _” Jack mimicked in a whining high pitched voice. 

“Although the complements and pleading are very flattering, all those people really care about are their own worthless lives. But you, sugar, you stood up to me! The last PA cracked in her second week. I hired her for her looks, not her will. But you, you’ve got potential.”

Rhys was staring, open mouthed at Jack’s figure slouched in his chair. Jack couldn’t be suggesting...oh he couldn't be–

“–I’m giving you a promotion, Rhysie. Courtesy of Handsome Jack. Congratulations, try not to piss yourself cause you're now my PA!”

A huge influx of emotions came rushing through Rhys’s head. His mind reeled. He hadn’t heard that right, had he? What just came out of Jack's mouth? Personal assistant? Why did Jack...what? Rhys was...Handsome Jack’s...personal. Assistant...? Just like that? All it took for that kind of promotion was ten words? Suddenly feeling quite dizzy with an entourage of fear, pride, confusion, excitement, and stress, Rhys put a hand up to his forehead looking up at Jack with a neutral yet unbelieving expression. 

“You mean that, s–Jack?”

“Yeah.” 

“When do I start?”

“Right now, baby!” Jack grinned. He waved a hand at Rhys. 

“Go get me coffee. I want it black as possible, no milk and if I even taste a hint of milk I’ll choke you to death. The only good coffee on this station is from the cafeteria on the fourth floor,” Jack barked out his orders. 

Rhys could barely keep up with what was happening. His heart was hammering against his ribcage so loudly he feared Jack could hear it. Adrenaline pulsed through his veins, his fight or flight instincts still raging. Being in the same room as Handsome Jack really made one feel like a caged animal, didn’t it? And what did Jack just ask of him? Coffee? Jack was asking him to fetch coffee. That was something assistants did. 

The fact suddenly hit Rhys. He was Handsome Jack’s personal assistant. He hadn't been two minutes ago, but for some whackass reason now he was. 

“What are you, dumb? Stop staring at me like a dying fish and GET A MOVE ON!” Jack roared at him. Without a second word, Rhys spun around and raced for the sliding door exit. He shoved the door open and felt Handsome Jack’s gaze burning into the back of his head as he disappeared through the threshold. Rhys gulped, trying to recall Jack's orders. What had he said? Fourth floor cafeteria?

“You look like shit,” Meg remarked from behind her desk, straightening up at Rhys's abrupt appearance. She curiously watched his disheveled form rush past and blow through her small domain in record speed. 

“Although it’s nice to see you survived. Where are you going so fast?”

Rhys yanked the second sliding door open. 

“Coffee!” He yelled over his shoulder before taking off down the hallway to the elevator. He punched the button and leaped inside, taking its current occupants by surprise. He stood awkwardly up front, aware his hair was a mess and his clothes rumpled. For some reason the other employees in the elevator kept giving him a grossed-out side eye. It dawned on Rhys he was still covered in blood and bruises. 

The elevator slowed to a halt at the fourth floor and Rhys bounded out of the elevator. He took off at a brisk walk down the hallway. Thank god for his long legs. He raced into the cafeteria and soon emerged with a single black coffee. Taking elongated strides he reached the elevator in no time and then he was off back all the way up to the twenty second floor. 

Meg let him into the office where Jack was waiting in the same exact position in his chair. His eyes widened in recognition at Rhys's appearance. 

“Well damn, that was fast, I'm impressed. But did you get it right?”

“Yes sir–Jack,” Rhys panted, out of breath. He placed the coffee on Jack’s desk and plopped down into the plain office chair, winded. Jack plucked the drink from the table surface and took a long drag. He let out a satisfied sigh.

“Nice. Now Rhysie, let’s chat about your new job…”

\-----

Rhys would keep his normal work schedule down in Department A. Jack confessed that Rhys’s blueprints were actually flawless. Jack had just “really needed to see a good look of despair today.” Well wasn't that just lovely? Yep, Handsome Jack was definitely the worlds biggest asshole.

On a more positive note, Jack said that Rhys was actually very smart although nowhere near as smart as him. Still, Rhys took pride in any half-compliment from Handsome Jack. So, because of Rhys's smarts, Jack wanted Rhys to continue working on weapon designs in his department. However, in the mornings Rhys was to bring Jack coffee and reports for all the departments located on floor two. In favor of Rhys's new job as PA, Jack would inform Henderson that Rhys was allowed to be a bit late in the mornings and leave early in the evenings. 

In words, it seemed like a lot but to Rhys, his tasks appeared to be kind of lax for a PA of the CEO.

“Is that all, s–Jack?”

“Wait! Let me guess...you were expecting a pay raise. I'm gonna have to disappoint cause–wait you do get a slight pay raise,” Jack said with a slight chuckle, tapping his metal chin clasp. His brow furrowed at Rhys’s unchanging expression. 

“What's with that dumb face? You should be excited for getting to work directly for me, myself.”

Rhys bit the inside of his cheek. The reason had suddenly dawned on him why Jack wouldn’t have him around as much as a PA should be. Jack didn’t trust him. At least, not yet. To be fair, Rhys didn’t exactly trust Jack with his life either.

“Nothing. I’m just excited for the job,” Rhys said quickly. He tried a small smile to mask his uncertainty. Jack seemed to read his mind completely, confirming his suspicions. 

“I'm starting you out with the small stuff, y'know? I don't bother with that whole sappy trust shiz. Kinda hard to trust anyone these days. Word of advice from Handsome Jack: backstabbers come from where you least expect it.”

“Yeah,” Rhys echoed. 

“Now leave before I get bored and blow your head off! I expect to see you and my coffee here tomorrow morning.”

Rhys nodded vigorously, and turned to leave. 

Jack snapped his fingers. 

“Oh! Right. One more thing. This is a rather _ private _thing between us. Unless you want a couple more bodies thrown in your grave with you, don’t mention this to any of your friends–if you have any.”

Rhys paused and turned back around to face Jack. He clenched his fist. Damn, telling Vaughn about his new situation would have to wait. 

“Anything else?”

Rhys’s tone came out a bit snappier than intended. He chewed the inside of his cheek, hoping Jack wouldn’t notice. 

Jack blinked. Surprise hidden behind the irritation the depths of his gaze. Not many people dared to talk to him like this, especially when they first met him. This fuckin' kid must have either serious guts, or a head full of stupid fluff. He tapped the metal clasp on his chin in thought and narrowed his eyes. 

“Hmm...no. Get out of my office and come back tomorrow, spider-legs.”

That was a new one. Rhys suddenly felt quite self conscious. The back of his neck prickled. 

"Yessir," he mumbled before turning towards the exit door. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rhys contemplates his existence
> 
> Y'all are gettin double update this weekend i cant believe I'm this dedicated wtf  
Also thank you for the kudos, they aren't much but theyre nice to see :-)

Rhys swiftly made his departure from the office and visibly relaxed the moment he was out of Jack’s sight. Meg eyed him from behind her desk with mild interest. 

“Are you...by chance his new PA?”

Rhys groaned. 

“How’d you guess?”

“Coffee. That's his trial for new candidates.”

Rhys sighed and rubbed a temple with his metallic hand. 

“I went in to deliver a simple set of blueprints and came out as Handsome Jack’s personal assistant. What the hell?” He exclaimed. Empathy glittered in Meg’s eyes. 

“It's very strange. I know. Welcome to the team. He keeps everyone on their toes, he's unpredictable. His personality swings are like a game of roulette.”

Rhys let out a breath. 

“You could say that again. How long do you reckon I’ll last?”

“That number is really low and I don't want to discourage you before you even start.”

Rhys groaned. Oh god, he was in deep shit now. 

“Well, have a good night,” he mumbled, all traces of energy zapped from his tone. 

“I got the door for you,” Meg said. Rhys strode past her and down the hall. His mind still raced from his friendly office visit with Handsome Jack.

As he made his way to the opposite side of Helios, he felt himself growing more lightheaded. Thoughts ricocheted through his mind, whizzing about and knocking together faster than he could handle. His head reeled. He couldn’t keep his thoughts in check or his emotions untangled. On the surface, he was downright terrified. Jack was a crazy lunatic. An asshole, crazy lunatic, that is. Rhys was probably at the top of his “people to kill if they fuck up” list. 

Rhys still felt a bit of excitement because everyone on Helios collectively knew Jack was a little crazy so Rhys had sort of expected Jack's unruly behavior. Rhys's admiration for the man hadn’t changed, in fact, Rhys was also feeling a bit of pride. Now that he was _Handsome Jack's _PA, his position was high above Vasquez’s. For once, Rhys got to one-up his opponent. 

But those positive thoughts were buried a bit deeper in his mind. At the moment his major thinking was only about Jack killing him and the dangers of Rhys's new position. This whole thing caused quite a bit of anxiety. Rhys’s fingers were trembling. He grabbed his flesh hand with his mechanical one to stem the shakiness. 

_ You're fine. Jack won’t kill you, he said he liked you, remember? You'll be fine._

Rhys gulped. Jack was totally going to kill him. 

\----------

Rhys stood in the doorway of his apartment. His living space was a bit small. A couch and TV were located to the left of the front door and the entrance to the kitchen was on the far side of the room. Inside the kitchen were doors leading to both Vaughn and Rhys’s rooms respectively. There was a window in the kitchen too. Unlike the one in Jack’s office, it did not have a view of Pandora. Just vast space and millions of stars glittering in the distance. 

Vaughn wasn't home yet. Rhys kicked the front door closed behind him and let out a massive exhale, decompressing from the days events. He went to unravel his tie from his neck only to wince and draw his hand back. His neck throbbed painfully from the bruises Jack’s fingers left. Rhys loosened his tie, a bit more carefully this time. 

He hobbled to the kitchen and rifled through the contents of his fridge. He pulled out a few leftovers and heated them in the microwave. Eating his dinner in loud silence, he tried to block out anxious thoughts. He just needed some quiet time to relax. 

Vaughn burst through the door minutes later.

“Hey bro!”

Rhys spun around and mustered up a smile. He was exhausted. 

“Hey! Help yourself to whatever's out, sorry I couldn’t make anything fresh tonight.”

“Ah don’t worry, it's cool.”

Vaughn set down his briefcase and strolled into the kitchen. He picked up a plate, piled on some beans and sat at the opposite end of the counter. Rhys would have asked about his day but he couldn't form the words he was so drained. Luckily his roommate asked him first. 

“How’d those weapons plans work out? You haven’t been around for the past couple days, did you pull a thirty-six hour day again?”

Rhys sighed. He wanted to tell Vaughn, Y_eah. Weapon blueprints worked like a charm. By the way, I'm Handsome Jack’s personal assistant now, you’ll probably find my body somewhere on Helios the next week. Dead. _

What came out was,

“Henderson didn’t like them, apparently Vasquez’s were better,” he mumbled through a mouth full of food. Vaughn’s expression was one of pure pain. He held copious amounts of empathy in his gaze. 

“Vasquez is a massive bitch isn’t he? I’m sorry about that, he has this _ frustrating _way of being a huge–” Vaughn stuttered off, pushing his glasses up his nose looking for a good word. 

“A huge douchebag,” he settled on. Rhys snorted. 

“You could say that again.”

The words came out a bit more dejected than Rhys would have liked. Vaughn paused stuffing his face and stood.

“Come here,” he said sauntering over to Rhys, arms open for a hug. Rhys pushed him away. 

“Come on man, I’m fine,” Rhys tried to assure him. Vaughn persisted. 

“You’re my best bro, come here,” he insisted, ignoring Rhys’s reassurance. Rhys sighed and half-heartedly accepted Vaughn’s hug. Vaughn squeezed him tightly. Rhys forgot how strong he was. His strength didn’t quite match his outward appearance. He was like a ...buff nerd. Yeah. 

“Okay okay I’m feeling better now,” Rhys insisted. Vaughn patted his shoulder and then his brow furrowed. 

“What's with your neck–oh my god! Are you seeing someone or are those strangling marks?” 

Rhys’s mind went blank trying to process what Vaughn had just said. It dawned on him the ring of bruises around his neck. Rhys immediately flushed, feeling the blood rush to his face. 

“What? No! No–no!” He retorted waving his hands. 

“That's from–Yeah, I was strangled. Uh...uh Weapons testing! I had weapons testing today. There was an accident,” Rhys stammered quickly. Shit, he was terrible at spinning a cover story on the spot like this. 

Vaughn gave him the ‘I don’t believe your shit for one minute’ look. 

“It's not! I swear!” Rhys insisted. 

“Testing went wrong! We were testing a new gun with those weird R&D homing rubber bullets–I got caught in the crossfire on accident, it hurt like hell,” Rhys explained hurriedly. 

“Oh… ok I believe that…–Oh what the fuck! Is that blood!?” Vaughn exclaimed, stepping back as he gave Rhys a concerned, wide-eyed once over. Rhys mentally hit himself. He forgot he was soaked in dead man's blood. 

“Its er...from the failed test. Don’t worry its not mine.”

Vaughn gave him one last concerned examination. 

“Okay, whatever you say, man.”

Rhys rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, forgetting the bruise marks and withdrawing his hand with a pained hiss. 

Vaughn returned to his plate of food on the counter. He glanced up from his dinner. 

“You wanna have a bro night? We could invite Yvette over and I can make popcorn?”

Rhys shook his head. 

“Sorry man, I’m exhausted, it's been a long day.”

“Its cool, I got some last minute statistics to run anyways,” Vaughn said with a dismissive wave. Rhys was grateful to have him as a friend. He made an agreeable roomate.

Vaughn worked in the same department as Rhys under Henderson. Henderson's department specialized in pistols. However, instead of pistol design, Vaughn worked on budget for the department. 

Rhys placed his dishes in the dishwasher and stretched, yawning. 

“I’m headed to bed, I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Night!”

Rhys shuffled tiredly into his room, swinging the door shut. He had a small bed pushed up against the far wall that took up almost the length of the room. His desk was cluttered with papers, pens and all sorts of vague concepts for weapons blueprints. Along the top of his dresser were several pictures of his sisters. Younger versions of them at least. His family was originally from a small town on Pandora. Rhys hadn't seen any of his sisters in years, they'd sisters perished in a psycho raid one fateful morning of his childhood. 

Plastering every inch of his walls were posters of Handsome Jack. Most were Hyperion issued, Rhys had collected them over the years. Some of them Yvette had obtained for him (she worked in the propaganda and advertising department. She’d given him some scrapped designs much to his delight) Rhys really, _ really _ admired Jack. He couldn’t wait to see Jack’s plan to cure Pandora fulfilled. To see the shithole of a planet wiped of psycho and bandit scum. 

Rhys looked around at the Handsome Jack’s looking back at him. For the first time he felt a prickle of unease. Now that he had firsthand experience with Jack under his belt, he didn’t really need the posters anymore. Besides, Rhys felt a newfound sense of anxiety with dozens of Jacks gazing down on him with a condescending gaze. Rhys shook his head. Nope. He could only handle one at a time. Rhys sighed and reached up to the nearest one. He neatly pried it off the wall and examined it. Jack’s face stared back at him. Rhys set it on his desk and reached for the next one. 

\----------

Soon he had a pile on his desk. The stack was several centimeters thick. Rhys took one last look at them and gathered them up in his hand. He stuffed them under his bed and stood up, brushing his hands off. Perfect. It was only then that he realized how bare his walls were. The lack of posters were...blinding in a way. 

Rhys did keep one poster up, one right above his bed. It depicted Jack posing on top of a clean Pandora, vault key in hand. He liked that one more than the others. 

Kicking off his clothes, he examined the bruises ringing his neck. The purple splotches ringed around his throat just above the blue ink of his tattoo near his collarbone. His tattoos stretched in a rolling swirling pattern from the base of his collarbone all the way down to his left hip. Rhys also duly noted that he was still drenched in blood. He’d have to shower that night. 

The bruises were an ugly purple, some had turned green. He cautiously prodded one and hissed through his teeth. A painful throbbing sensation worked its way down his neck from his touch. Rhys groaned, he’d have to cover that up. He examined himself in the mirror, switching on his ECHOeye and scanning himself. 

**Rhys Strongfork**

**Gender: Male**

**Age: 27**

**Weapons designer in Department A: Handsome Jack’s PA**

Huh, it had updated. Rhys briefly pondered who plugged in that new data to the ECHOweb.

He ruffled his hair, ECHOeye pulsing softly. The Eye was a useful tool, it perfected his shooting aim to 100% accuracy. His cybernetic was also an instant encyclopedia and a place to store digital files he could access with a single thought. Also a convenient way to receive and reply to messages and calls without the need of an ECHOpad. However Rhys still preferred his ECHOpad to the eye for messages. The faintly glowing blue pad rested on the edge of his desk. He always left the device at home to ensure he’d have no distractions working on his blueprints. 

The fatal wave of exhaustion crashed over Rhys after his shower. He wrestled on sleeping clothes before fumbling with the latches around his mechanical arm. He removed the limb every night for sleeping since it was rather awkward to lay in bed with. His arm emitted a low frequency pulse hum that communicated with his eye at all times. Besides that, the hunk of metal strapped to his right side was just plain uncomfortable. 

He carefully disconnected his arm, placing the cybernetic on his dresser. The metal arm weighed the same as a regular flesh arm so Rhys stumbled as his balance was thrown off by the lack of weight on his right side. He staggered over to his bed and flopped down onto his sheets with a sigh.

Oh it felt good to get off his feet and lay down. He’d been awake the past thirty-six hours.

Rhys curled up around the missing weight of his arm. Although he was worn-out, he was still trying to process his first meeting with Handsome Jack. 

The tasks that were required of Rhys now that he was Jack’s PA were relatively simple. Rhys could handle them no problem but everything just seemed so sudden. One moment he was a humbled man showing the big boss his work and then the next he was the guys PA. I mean, seriously, what the fuck? Well, at least Rhys got his wish for recognition, although it wasn't quite as expected as he dreamed it'd be.

Rhys was no longer just some spare, expendable, invisible Hyperion employee? Right? He let his pride knock around his head a bit. Yeah, he wasn't just another Hyperion employee, he was Handsome Jack’s _ personal assistant. _People would care if he died. Wouldn’t they? Rhys’s mind sank back down to more depressing thoughts. 

Rhys could be killed! The thought was creeping around the back of his mind. Jack was dangerous, very dangerous. Rhys knew one wrong move might be his last. No. He would be fine. Jack said he liked the fact that Rhys stood up to him. He liked Rhys there to keep things interesting. Rhys figured as long as he proved useful and entertaining, he had nothing to fear. 

His eyes fluttered shut as he recalled Jack and the words he’d said to Rhys. _ “I like you.” _Rhys could barely keep from shouting to the skies. Handsome Jack approved of him! He smiled to himself, a victorious sense of pride washing over his head. Everything was working out.

Rhys was a hardworking individual. He was always on time arriving at the office and never early to leave. He made sure the job he did was done right. He took pride in his work, hoping that one day his steady work ethic would get him somewhere. Well low and behold, his hard work paid off. His determined working drive got him all the way to Handsome Jack. 

Rhys’s excitement dropped a little. Jack didn’t quite trust him yet, but that was fine. They’d known each other for less than an hour, of course Jack wouldn’t trust him! Rhys felt determination bubble in his gut. He’d be the best goddamn PA Jack ever had. He’d do his job and do it right. He’d show Jack he was a loyal and trustworthy member of Hyperion and of Jack’s company. He worked directly for Jack now. Rhys stifled a dumb fuckin' smile. Who knew? Maybe someday the two of them could become a team.

“I’ll be the best personal assistant Handsome Jack has ever had,” Rhys mumbled to himself as he began to drift off. 

Rhys was directly under _ the _Handsome Jack now so Rhys was driven to step up to the plate. 

With that final thought, Rhys slipped under and he fell into a dark, restless slumber.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rhys gets an unexpected call

The ECHOeye buzzed Rhys awake at exactly seven o’clock. He jolted upright, brain already alert. That was one of many perks his eye came with. Easy wake-up.

Rhys yawned, slipping out of bed and staggering to the dresser. He was very unbalanced without his missing limb. Blinking a few times, he cleared the morning fog from his head. His metal arm was ice-cold to the touch. He sat on the end of his bed, fumbling with the clasps for a few minutes to reattach it. 

On the final click, Rhys let out a satisfied “ah” as he felt his neurons flare up. A small line of blue lights flickered to life on the underside of its wrist. He flexed his fingers experimentally. They emitted a usual clacking sound when rubbed together but besides that, his joints operated silently and smoothly. Rhys rubbed his eyes and glanced around. He felt like he was forgetting something…

His clothes from the night previously were tossed in a rumpled heap on the floor. He picked up the bloodstained shirt and tossed the cloth in the trash bin. That one was ruined but whatever. Rhys had many collared shirts just like it still in his closet. He worked a palm full of gel through his disheveled bed head, taming his tangled curls and slicking his hair back. 

The thought suddenly hit him like a bullet train as he remembered the very thing he'd forgotten.

_ Shit! _He had to bring Jack coffee. With newfound haste, he jumped around his room, clothing himself for the day. He fumbled with the buttons on his shirt, messing up and having to redo them twice. Quickly, he snagged the ECHOpad off his desk. Slinging his vest around his shoulders he burst through the door with a loud bang. 

Vaughn was in the midst of making breakfast in the kitchen. He flinched, dropping a fork at the sudden noise. Whipping around he observed Rhys’s frantic form and blearily gazed at him. 

“Jesus don’t scare me like that! Dude are you okay?”

Rhys nodded, yanking open the bread cabinet. He stuffed a bagel in his mouth. 

“Yeah yeah I’m fine, just–uh–eager to get to work!” Rhys sputtered, words muffled by the bagel. Vaughn couldn’t quite understand him but figured by his frantic haste and leaping around that he had something important to take care of. 

Rhys yanked open the apartment door. 

“Have a good day man!” He called over his shoulder. 

“See you at lunch?”

“Yeah!” Rhys agreed, slamming the door shut behind him.

\-----------

Rhys was having a momentary sensation of panic. He wanted to be the best PA Jack ever had. Oh, what good would it be if he couldn’t even deliver coffee on time! Well, to be fair Rhys didn’t know what time Jack arrived at his office, the more he thought about it...where did Jack go when he wasn’t at the office? Probably had a private apartment somewhere. 

He hopped in the elevator and bustled across to the other side of Helios, making his way to the fourth-floor cafeteria. He couldn’t help feeling pride wash over him as he passed by employees in the hall. _ I'm Handsome Jack’s personal assistant. _He chuckled to himself. 

Careful not to spill hot coffee over his hand, Rhys packed himself into an elevator to take him to the twenty-second floor. The elevator slid to a halt at the final floor. Rhys briskly walked down the hallway and came to the first door leading to Jack’s office. 

As he raised his fist to knock, it slid open silently, like a ghost, without previous inquiry from Meg. Rhys cautiously poked his head inside, Meg wasn’t seated behind her desk yet. 

Rhys felt a prickle of unease crawl up the back of his neck. He stepped in and looked at her space. Maybe Jack had an automated door system for when she wasn't there? Rhys would ask him. 

He stepped up to the second door and pulled it open. Jack’s office was empty. Rhys eyed the ground where the body had lain the day before. This morning was barely any trace of blood left, the dead man had been neatly mopped up. 

Rhys gazed around the spacious office, Jack hadn’t arrived yet. Rhys supposed that was sort of...good. Jack might appreciate Rhys being earlier than on-time. Rhys glanced around, the lack of Jack’s presence in the office was very noticeable. 

The whole room felt like it had lost something, there was a missing piece in this place without his presence. Rhys sauntered up to Jack’s desk. He brushed a few loose papers to the side and placed the coffee down. It was still boiling hot. Rhys plucked a pen from a jar and peeled off a sticky note from a nearby pad. 

_ I stopped by around– _he checked the time in the corner of his ECHOeye –_seven-forty. I'm going down to my office, call me if you need anything _

_ -Rhys _

Rhys examined his note. Yeah, that would be fine. He fastened the note onto the coffee cup before stepping back and brushing off his hands. He was off to a fine start in his new side-career!

At least he hoped.

Then he moved on and did exactly what his note entailed. Rhys headed down to his department for work. As Rhys stepped inside the department door to his sector, Henderson stepped out from around a corner. 

“Rhys!”

Rhys whirled around. Henderson was holding up an envelope. 

“I got the news, Handsome Jack really liked your stuff huh?”

Rhys beamed. 

“Yes, sir.”

Henderson gave Rhys a suspicious look. 

“I don’t know how you managed to get out of there alive, but I’m glad you did. Handsome Jack told me you were excused from being late or leaving the office early. He also wanted to give you this,” Henderson said, holding out the envelope for Rhys. 

He took the envelope from his superior’s hand and peered inside. There was a set of blueprints neatly tucked in there. He cautiously slid the documents out and took a closer inspection. The papers weren't Rhys's prints and to his utter surprise they were Vasquez’s. A note was firmly glued to the front page. In sharp, jagged handwriting it read,

_ What could be better revenge (besides killing) than one-upping your enemies by taking over their own work, sugar? Have fun :]! _

_ -HJ _

To Rhys, the smiley face seemed vaguely threatening but never mind that. Jack was telling Rhys to rework Vasquez’s prints.

Huh, well it was a kind gesture, Rhys supposed. He smirked studying the documents in his hands. Oh how much fun this would be. He carefully tucked the prints back into the envelope and gave Henderson a positive grin. 

“All looks good, I’ll get right to work on this,” Rhys said brightly, clutching the envelope. He dipped his head politely in Henderson’s direction before hurrying off to his cubicle. Sliding into his chair, Rhys leaned forwards, intently setting to work with fresh determination flowing through his body. This was the first real job Jack tasked him with so he'd do it right. 

He unpacked the blueprints and laid the papers neatly on his desk. He carefully fed the documents to his computer and soon had each page splayed across desktop. Rhys then folded the note from Jack and tucked it securely into his breast his pocket. He poked his monitor with a metallic hand and the device sprang to life, holograms popping forwards from the screen. Rhys grinned, raising a hand and setting to work. 

There were a few technical flaws in Vasquez’s design, including some incorrect measurements that Rhys quickly took care of. He adjusted a few proportions and then realized with the barrel so short, there wasn’t enough room to store each type of elemental bullet inside the trajectory chamber.

\----------

Time passed quickly, and Rhys was nowhere near done yet. He periodically glanced at the clock.

9 o’ clock…..eleven-twenty…

Rhys was rudely interrupted at about 11:47 am. He was in the midst of adjusting a trigger mechanism when a furious hand slapped down onto his desk. Rhys jumped, startled before glaring upwards at the rude interuptee, a scowl plastered over his face. Then his scowl lifted into a cool pleasant expression, upon seeing who was looming over him, seething with anger. 

“What the hell is this? You’ve gone and stolen my blueprints!” Vasquez exclaimed. Rhys remained cool and collected, satisfaction bubbling up from below upon seeing Vasquez’s incredulous, irate filled look. 

“I was _ given _ your blueprints. I did not steal them. Learn the difference. Han–Henderson asked me to rework your shit,” Rhys explained smoothly, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. Vasquez was slowly turning bright red. He clenched a fist. Rhys began to worry that he might get physical but was quickly reassured Vasquez could do nothing against him (he had a metal arm and Vasquez didn’t) but Rhys still scanned him with his ECHOeye. 

**Hugo Vasquez**

**Gender: Male**

**Age: 35**

**Vice Department Head of the Hyperion Weapons Development Department A**

“You, you’re lying. I’ll have you demoted for this,” Vasquez spat furiously. Rhys kicked back, putting his hands behind his head. 

“Ask Henderson yourself, he’ll tell you just how it is,” Rhys sneered knowing he’d won. He raised an eyebrow and grinned. Vasquez was everything short of steam billowing of his ears. He exhaled deeply. 

“Fine, I'll ask him. Afterwards, I'm going to get you airlocked,” Vasquez hissed, clenching his fist. Rhys held an unwavering grin.

_ I’d like to see you try._ He thought, entertaining the imagery of Henderson informing a furious Vasquez that his work was flawed and needed to be redone by non other than Rhys.

Vasquez remained angrily towering over Rhys's desk. Rhys waved an idle hand. 

“Sounds good, sir. Won’t change the facts. I’ll see you around, Vasquez,” Rhys dismissed him and turned back to his work. Vasquez stood in enraged silence for a few more moments before he whirled around with a growl and stalked away furiously. 

\----------

The rest of Rhys's morning shift was Vasquez-free, much to Rhys's delight. He checked the time once more, the clock reading 12:11. Shit! He was going to be late meeting Vaughn and Yvette for lunch. Rhys swiftly packed up the contents of his desk and powered down his monitor. He briefly checked his ECHOpad for new messages. One from Yvette read,

_ “Where are you? Me and Vaughn are waiting and i need lunch money”_

Rhys rolled his eyes. 

_ “I’ll be down in five use your own money next time dumbass” _he typed back before hurrying out of the office to meet up with his friends. 

\----------

Vaughn and Yvette were waiting for him at a table. The cafeteria was incredibly busy at lunch hour, and a bit noisy. Luckily, it wasn't terribly crowded today. Rhys waved at the two of them from across the cafeteria.They already had food. Both of them waved back. Rhys quickly grabbed his lunch and then joined them. He slid into the seat across from the two. 

Rhys tossed a couple coins to Yvette. 

“Here you go, lunch money.”

“Thanks,” she said, pocketing them. 

“Vaughn told me your blueprints didn’t go over Henderson well?” She inquired. Rhys shook his head. 

“Yeah, he didn’t approve,” Rhys lied. Yvette took a bite out of her sandwich. 

“I feel ya. My manager scrapped my last three designs,” she growled shaking her head. 

“Am I the only one here who hasn’t suffered any losses lately?” Vaughn chortled in. Both Rhys and Yvette nodded at him solemnly. 

Yvette pushed her glasses up on her nose. 

“Cheer up! I heard that Assquez’s hair is actually fake. He only uses extensions,” she whispered. Then she frowned. 

“I'm assuming your problems are about Vasquez?”

“Yup,” Rhys sighed sadly. He regrettably couldn’t tell them that Vasquez was no longer a major issue. Rhys had the situation all under control now. 

“So...did Handsome Jack approve of Assquez’s blueprints instead of yours?” Vaughn asked curiously. Rhys pondered his question for a minute. What should he say? What cover story should he spin that was both believable and easy to remember?

“Uh...yeah...I think so. That’s what Henderson told me. Now that I think about it, Mr. Hair extensions was in a gloating mood this morning,” Rhys fibbed quickly. He surprised himself. He hadn't known he was rather good at lying through his teeth. 

Vaughn took a sip of his coffee, face drooping. 

“You should kick his ass, beat him up next time. Actually, nevermind. Just forget about Vasquez. You’ll get your chance to get your work recognized by Handsome Jack one day, I believe in you man. I sorta wish I could but I’m just a banking kind of guy. The only people who are important in my department are the executives,” he said dejectedly. Rhys frowned. 

“Don’t say that! You run the guidelines for my department's budget, we gotta listen to you guys.”

Vaughn seemed to cheer up. 

“Thanks.”

Yvette cleared her throat. 

“My department can’t get enough of Handsome Jack. Our final drafts go directly to him.”

She sighed, eyes dull. 

“I don’t know...sometimes I wish I had never come to Helios.”

The entire vibe at their table shifted. She had both Rhys and Vaughns full attention. They stared at her. 

“What? It’s just kind of...hard. Handsome Jack is difficult to deal with. I’ve never met him in person but the ego...the ego on that guy. The designs for propaganda posters he approves of...he comes off as an egotistical narcissist jackass, doesn’t make for a good boss, you know?” Yvette remarked harshly in a lowered voice. 

Vaughn’s brow lines creased. He huffed. 

“You might have a point but you gotta give the man some respect. Also, be careful what you say, we're on _his_ space station after all. Besides, his work on Pandora is incredible,” Vaughn countered her. 

Yvette chewed her lip, “I don’t know, he just seems...Handsome Jack has good intentions, but he's fighting fire with fire down on Pandora–”

“–and he’s doing a damn fine job,” Rhys interjected defensively. 

“His work actually makes a difference and yeah, he might have an ego but if you ran the most powerful company in the universe wouldn’t you too?”

Rhys had no idea where this newfound energy had sprung from. He admired Jack a lot and naturally felt defensive as Yvette challenged him. 

“I know, I just...I’m not sure. But Rhys, you’ve certainly got a weird obsession with him,” Yvette flipped the dime. Rhys gulped as the attention at the table turned on him. 

“Yeah yeah, I know. He’s just really cool and he’s making a difference,” Rhys muttered hurriedly. 

“Yeah but like, you have so many posters of him. Although I guess some of that’s my fault,” Yvette pointed out. Rhys chewed the inside of his lip. 

“Well...he’s my idol so–”

Rhys’s ECHOpad cut in just in time to save Rhys from further embarrassment. The device buzzed across the counter, startling Vaughn. His knee collided with the underside of the table in a bang. Yvette cast him a furious glare and he rubbed his neck sheepishly.

Rhys plucked his ECHO device from the table and frowned at the illuminated screen. He didn’t recognize the PIN. Shushing Vaughn and Yvette he cautiously held the ECHOpad up to his ear. 

“Hello?”

A familiar tone rang out. 

“Heyy, pumpkin. How’s your day going?”

For some reason, the voice on the other end sounded like it was chewing something crunchy. 

“Mine’s been pretty great, I just bought a pony made of diamonds. Why? Cause I'm rich.”

“I–?”

Rhys caught himself before he spitting out anything in front of his friends. He covered his ECHOpad and jerked his head towards his friends.

“I gotta take this, it's a business call. I’ll be right back,” he whispered them a hasty explanation before uncovering his ECHOpad. Both Vaughn and Yvette stared at him curiously as he slid off his chair and promptly dashed out of the cafeteria.

Once out of sight, Rhys found a quiet niche in the hallway. 

“Jack? How’d you get this number?”

“I'm the damn CEO of the entire company, you think I don’t know what everyone’s number is?”

Rhys exhaled, “Right. Is there anything you need me for?” He asked. Rhys did not appreciate being interrupted in the middle of his lunch, even if the interrupter was none other than Handsome Jack himself. 

Jack paused. 

“Hmm...naw. Well actually yes. Why weren’t you at my office this morning?” 

Rhys’s mind blanked. He did go to the office didn’t he?

“I–I’m not sure what you mean, sir.”

“Jack.”

“Jack."

“Good. Ok what I mean is why weren’t you there when I arrived?” Jack asked deliberately with a dash of exasperation. He sounded genuinely annoyed which was not a good thing. Rhys tapped his foot nervously. 

“Uh, I came early, I left the coffee on your desk,” he explained slowly. 

“That’s not what I asked you to do!”

“I’m sorry?”

Rhys heard Jack heave a massive sigh and crumple the wrapper of whatever he’d been munching on into a tight ball. 

“I specifically said, 'I want to see you and the coffee here tomorrow morning' and I only got one of those things this morning,” he explained slowly to Rhys in a precarious voice.

Oh shit oh fuck Rhys had already fucked up. He was going to die wasn’t he? Oh god he was going to be shot–

“Why does me being there matter?” Rhys blurted out on curious impulse before covering his mouth. 

Jack snickered over the end of the receiver. 

“I knew I didn’t make a mistake hiring you. Because Rhysie, I said so. And when Handsome Jack says so, Handsome Jack means it and gets what he wants. He doesn’t need back talk from some bloody stupid desk jockey.” 

Rhys bit his cheek. 

“Okay,” he said slowly voice slightly wobbly. “I’ll be sure not to mess up again.”

“Nice,” Handsome Jack’s tone seemed to have quelled.

“Clearly you don’t remember, that I told Henderson you could arrive late. Stop worrying about going to your department and be more worried about arriving at my office on time. Take this as your only warning 'cause I need a functional PA. Don't you dare forget that I can replace you at any time,” Jack scolded him. Rhys nodded vigorously, even though Jack couldn't see him. 

“Coffee was very good though. Its a simple order, just black with nothing extra but for some reason people usually mess up on their first try. Kudos to you on that,” Jack remarked.

“Well...I...uh...work for you with the best of my abilities,” Rhys stammered out. Jack snorted. 

“Cool, good to know. That means you’ll be up at my office with the reports from your department this evening, right?”

“Yep,” Rhys replied tightly. He couldn’t see it, but Jack rolled his eyes. 

“Right, and you got my envelope? I’m assuming you’re already hard at work on it?”

“Yes, thank you, it's been fun,” Rhys nodded, remembering Vasquez’s enraged expression earlier that morning. 

“Thought you’d like it. By the way, I may have-er _ accidentally _lost your blueprints in a quick clean out of papers in my office, could you pretty please print them again? Maybe make a couple more tweaks to their design by tonight?”

Rhys scowled. _ Really? Did Jack really have to lose them?_

“Yeah no problem,” he muttered. 

“Great, see you tonight, sugar.”

With that, the line disconnected and Rhys exhaled a long breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. Well, this wasn’t a terrible start to his career, was it? Sure he made a minor mistake but that seemed to be okay in the long run. 

Rhys glanced around the hallway before pocketing his ECHOpad and swiftly returning to the cafeteria. His mind was already racing. He’d have to set aside Vasquez’s prints to work on his own again that afternoon. He saved Jack’s number under the contact name ‘Handsome Jackass’ for good measure before sliding back onto his chair and joining his friends. As their conversation continued, Rhys could think of nothing but what lay ahead for him that morning. Oh man, it was going to be an interesting evening. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so I think this fic will update on a bi-weekly basis?  
Its kinda fun to write, the next couple chapters are a bit boring but then it sort of picks up:)
> 
> Thanks for all the support so far :D


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rhys meets with Jack that evening
> 
> sorry, this ones a short chapter. I got longer ones coming up :)

Ah yes, the dreaded hour finally arrived. 

The day had gone by quickly, much to Rhys’s dismay. Now came the time to deliver Jack department statistics. Rhys packed up his things and powered down his desktop. He’d been hard at work that day completing both his remake of Vasquez’s prints and his own per Jack’s request. He swung by Henderson’s office to pick up the department's statistics. Henderson wished him luck. 

Rhys waved goodnight to a few of his coworkers and left the office in a hurry. He didn’t want to be late and he rode the elevator in silence, collecting his thoughts. Jack didn’t seem _that_ angry during the unexpected lunch call…did he?

_ No. _ Rhys reassured himself.

_ Everything is going to be fine. _

Rhys swept out of the elevator and halted in front of the doors to Jack’s office. He glanced around the corridor. A few people bustled about the elevators on the other end of the hall but they paid him no mind. Rhys wasn’t sure why but he suddenly felt very self-conscious standing in front of Jack’s door. He clacked his robotic fingers together nervously. 

“Rhys?”

Meg’s voice sounded suddenly sounded above him jerking him from his thoughts. Rhys gazed up into the camera. 

“Yes?”

“Oh good, it’s you. Come on in,” the door unlocked on Meg’s command and Rhys strode inside. 

Rhys gave her a smile. 

“Is he ready?” He asked. Meg gave a thumbs up, while simultaneously taking a swig of a drink which had miraculously appeared in her grasp. 

The second doors slid open and Rhys poked his head in. Jack was present at his desk, pen busy moving back and forth across paper. Rhys gently cleared his throat and stepped inside. Jack glanced up from his work. 

“Ah, you’re early. Good evening,” he gestured to the chair opposite his desk. Rhys gingerly wandered over and settled into the seat across from Jack. Jack finished off his penmanship and placed both utensil and paper off to the side. 

“You got the stats from your department?” He inquired of expectantly, hand open. Rhys placed one of the envelopes into Jack's outstretched palm. He quickly snatched the papers away and swayed back in his chair, kicking up his feet onto the desk. Rhys shuffled his own chair sideways to peer around the bottoms of Jack’s sneakers which now filled his view. 

“I’ll look at these later. Did you finish that project I asked for?” Jack queried, tossing the statistics onto yet another stack of papers on his desk. 

Rhys handed over the second envelope. 

“Yep, here you go.”

Jack briefly skimmed through the blueprints, examining them and uttering occasional grunts of approval. Curiosity suddenly struck Rhys. What would happen if he scanned Handsome Jack with his ECHOeye? He narrowed his eyes slightly, electric blue one focusing in. 

** Handsome Jack. Yep thats my full name. My real one. Seriously. **

** Gender: Male**

** Age: Wouldn’t you like to know**

** Handsome freakin’ Jack. The Hero**

Interesting. Rhys snapped back to reality. Of course he wouldn’t find anything on Jack in the ECHOnet. After all, the ECHOnet was Hyperion, therefore Jack's property. 

“Yeah, yeah, yep. I knew I could count on you. This is good. I’ll have it sent down to manufacturing to whip up a couple prototypes,” Jack decided. Rhys could hardly contain himself. He forced the rest of his excitement down and flashed a polite smile. 

“I’m just glad it's adequate.”

Jack sighed and tossed the blueprints on the other side of his desk.

Of course Rhys was grateful for the small blueprint task Jack had assigned him but he wanted more. He wished for more important tasks. Rhys felt he wasn’t serving as well or hard as he could be. The corners of his mouth twitched and his eyes narrowed somewhat in thought. This was a slight, hardly noticeable mannerism. Unfortunately, Jack was a very observant man. 

“What's wrong kitten, cat got your tongue? You can speak, I _ probably _ won’t cut it out,” he grinned, swinging his feet down off the desk and back to the floor. Rhys licked his lips nervously and took a deep breath. He squared his shoulders before mustering up the courage to look Jack in the eye. 

“I want to do more work...Like...more...important jobs–I don't know–” Rhys stammered before heaving a great sigh and attempting to rephrase his response. 

“–I want more important work but...I–look I know you don’t trust me–”

Jack let out a wheeze and slammed a fist on the table. Rhys recoiled. 

“Ho! You got that right!”

He began chuckling to himself. Rhys quieted, afraid to speak over him. He swallowed nervously, on edge as Jack began a tirade. 

“Okay okay, So imagine this. There's a hero. This hero fought many battles, so many villains. He’s been stabbed in the back so many times, but he gets up every betrayal. Then the villains just keep coming back, killing more and more of the hero’s loyal friends and subjects. It's just what villains do. It's just a classic clash of back and forth between good guys and bad guys until eventually, ta-da!”

Jack spread his arms. 

“The hero comes out on top. In stories the bad guys are always stubbornly persistent, the same is true in reality. The hero gets backstabbed too many times. Betrayal is part of the job. The moral is, a hero's gotta protect himself from the bad guys who hate him for the greatness he's doing. It's impossible to do that if the hero gets all friendly with his subjects,” Jack finished.

Gears churned in Rhys’s brain as he processed Jack’s elaborate metaphor which didn’t quite make much sense. What Rhys could decipher was that Jack was subtly stating that he trusted no one. 

“I–Are you trying to say you don't trust anyone? 'Cause if you are you could just outright tell me that–” Rhys blurted.

Rhys was a straightforward man, he liked to cut to the chase. Sometimes, cutting to the chase wasn’t always in his best interest. Horror quickly dawned on him as he realized what just spilled out of his mouth. He instantly froze up and cast his gaze anywhere but Jack.

For once, Jack seemed at a loss for words. 

“I am sorry that was not my place-” Rhys began quietly but was cut off by the sound of Jack slamming a fist on the table, scattering a few loose papers to the floor. Both Rhys and items on the desk jumped. 

“Oh just shut your fuck up!” He shouted. Dangerous fiery light danced in his gaze. For the first time, Jack looked truly enraged. Rhys gulped.

SHit shit shit shit shit shit he’d fucked it up. He’d fucked it ALL up. Oh he was so dead. He was gonna be thrown out of the airlock. His body was going to endlessly float through the stars around Helios forever. 

Rhys waited for Jack to draw his pistol or for him to lunge across the table and crush his windpipe. But to his continuous surprise, Jack sucked in a breath and stiffly relaxed. He threw back his head and let loose a laugh. 

“Alright alright, I see how it is,” he chuckled. Anger flickered in his gaze but was slyly hidden behind a mask of humor. He put up his hands in surrender. 

“Look Rhysie, you aren't that important. Trust goes one way. You trust me. 'Cause I got no obligation to trust you–some random friggin' department lackey. I’m the king, baby. The king doesn’t listen to his subjects 'cause he knows what's best for him.”

_ No but he does his advisor. _Rhys's inner voice piped up. And Rhys was nowhere near that level. As Rhys kept his eyes glued down at the desk, for some reason, in the moment he didn’t fear the man across from him.

Rhys needed Jack to trust him in order for Rhys's ambitions to be filled. Unfortunately, he had no idea how to do gain Jack's clearly fragile trust.

_ Just do your job. _ Rhys's little inner voice advised. _ Just do your job well. These things take time. _

_ Wow I'm getting all high and mighty really fast. _ Another one of Rhys’s inner voices chortled in. _ Handsome Jack’s ego must be rubbing off on me. _His inner thoughts observed. 

Jack studied him intently, emerald eye gleaming menacingly before the shadow crossing his face vanished. He leaned back in his chair and studied Rhys with a baleful eye.

“So what about you?” His asked, previous anger suddenly vacated. 

“What about...me?” Rhys repeated slowly. 

“I pulled up your files on the database. You’ve got a clean record. Several of your past supervisors noted that you have, and I quote ‘An incredible work ethic and fantastic hair.’ That last one is a compliment from yours truly.”

Rhys flushed but he was more than grateful for the change of topic. His nerves had calmed briefly since it appeared he was safe from Jack’s fury...for now.

Although Jack had made it crystal clear they were no longer to discuss the topic of trust, Rhys had a sneaking suspicion Jack would remember that particular conversation. 

Jack squinted his eyes. 

“Why are you so dedicated to the company?” He asked, clarifying his question once more. Rhys frowned in thought. 

“Well…” he began hesitantly. He wondered if he should reveal his true feelings about Jack. No, Jack would find it weird and most definitely creepy if Rhys flat out confessed he had an unfortunate obsession.

Rhys would have to decide on his next words carefully. 

“I admire you. I really really look up to you,” he let out, flushing as he realized how strange those words sounded audibly and not in his head.

“I admire how quickly you were able to climb the corporate ladder. I mean, you were CEO at 25. That’s the youngest in history! Also your work on Pandora is incredible. I grew up there, so I know what it's like. That planet's why I have this–” Rhys held up his metallic arm in explanation. He lowered his limb and continued. 

“I almost got killed in a raid by psychos on my town. Psycho tore off my arm when I was fifteen. They slaughtered everyone in the town that night. My mother and I were the only ones to survive,” he swallowed heavily, unexpectedly tasting bitter. 

“She was a Hyperion engineer so she took me up here to replace my arm and get the ECHOeye,” Rhys explained. 

“Its weird a scrawny guy like you could survive the ECHOeye implant. Its like a 6% chance of survival,” Jack remarked idly. Rhys gave a half-hearted smile. 

“Yep. Well here I am, your only living proof that the ECHOeye program even works. Anyways...uh...so my mother was old and she passed away a couple of years after. She was a highly successful engineer but I remember nobody cared that she died and there was no one to attend a burial even though she had such high rank.”

“I don’t want to be a nobody. I don’t want to die as just some expendable employee. I want to be like you. Everybody knows you, the great leader of Hyperion. I want to be a CEO or something. At least someone recognizable," he poured out. The room was quiet for a few moments. Rhys felt a wallowing emptiness in his chest 

“Well get me some tissues! I wasn’t expecting such a dramatic sob story,” Jack laughed. Rhys frowned at him. Jack paid him no mind and made a face. 

“You want to be the hero huh? Well, just remember that the hero gets backstabbed the most. Don’t you forget that. We wouldn’t want you dying alone with no one to remember you before you actually matter,” Jack declared pointedly. His tone revealed he wasn’t playing around. 

Rhys nodded and couldn’t conjure the thought of anything else to say.

Did Jack even listen to him? Course not. Who even cared? All he’d said was another silly metaphor. Besides, Handsome Jack had no reason to even give a shit about Rhys.

Jack picked up a stack of folders off his desk and without warning, hurled them at Rhys. 

Rhys yelped in surprise and batted the folders out of the air, fumbling with a clumsy catch. 

“Go get these to the department heads on the sixteenth floor,” Jack instructed promptly. Rhys’s brow furrowed in irritation. Really? He poured his heart out to Handsome Jack, and all Jack had was another dumb metaphor? Rhys glared at Jack, who still wore a shit-eating grin. 

Oh Jack knew what he was doing all right. Rhys flushed and stood up quickly, stomping towards the door. Jack pouted behind him.

“Aw, Rhysie? Did I say something?”

“You're a jackass!” Rhys tossed over his shoulder, shoving the sliding door open. Jack grinned wildly behind him. 

“That one's in the name, baby!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pleas,,,comment,,,i am lacking in human interaction uhhhhhhh


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vasquez a bitch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the comments on the last chapter, they were really nice to wake up to :]

The next few days passed normally. Relatively, normally that is. Ever since the conversation with Jack the first evening, Rhys felt a shift in their collective vibe.

They had an interesting dynamic. Rhys stayed in line most of the time, and Jack dubiously tolerated him. Rhys found a steady rhythm in his new schedule, and he became excellent at his job. He even grew to learn that Jack was usually in a better mood in the morning rather than the evening. 

Rhys was also adapting to Jack's slightly crazed temperament and occasional angry outbursts. Quite frankly, Jack was entertaining to be around, even if Rhys was always wary, and constantly on his toes in Jack’s presence. (He still wasn’t convinced Jack didn’t have some ulterior plan to kill him one day.) 

Besides running coffee and statistics, Jack called him once or twice during the week, telling him to get his ass up to the office. He had Rhys run papers to a couple department heads and assigned him another special weapons design project. Rhys's life was beginning to grow rather busy much to his happiness.

To top everything off, Vasquez hadn’t bothered Rhys since the day he'd found Rhys working on his prints. There was only an occasional glare as they crossed paths in the hallways. 

Other than that, Rhys had smoothly swung into the rhythm of things and hit the ground running. Hey, it even seemed like Jack tolerated him enough to keep him around. It was a good balance. 

\----------

One morning, Rhys overslept by ten minutes because he’d been out with Yvette and Vaughn the night before. Rhys sprung up, cursing as he raced about the apartment and dashed across Helios to fetch Jack’s coffee in a disheveled mess. He even forgot his tie that day. 

Rhys arrived, carefully balancing the coffee in his hand. He paused at his usual spot in front of the door, waiting for Meg’s chipper voice to buzz him in. He waited there for a few minutes but she didn’t respond. Rhys waved at the camera. No reaction. He had just raised his fist to knock when a familiar weasel-ly voice reached his ears. 

“Oh my! What do we have here?”

Rhys spun around and came face to face with...yep...Vasquez. He felt his heart sink. It was early in the morning, did he really have to deal with both Jack and his nemesis? Apparently so. 

“That’s none of your business,” Rhys said coolly. He maintained an aloof posture and straightened his back. Vasquez sized him up. In one hand he carried a folder, most likely more diagrams for new weapons. 

“Really? So you’re here to try and get a peak at Handsome Jack huh? You finally gave in to your weird obsessive crush on him?”

That hit Rhys like a slap in the face. His voice faltered. 

“Wh–Excuse me?”

Vasquez raised his eyebrows and gave a sly grin. 

“Tell you what. If you leave now, and pay me ...let's say...30k I won’t tell Handsome Jack that his number one fanboy came to spy on him,” Vasquez offered, picking a fingernail.

Rhys’s composure snapped, he flushed, heat curling around his cheeks. Oh Vasquez really got him worked up. Anger boiled in his gut.

“I do not have a _ weird obsessive crush. _What about you huh? You here to spy on him too?” Rhys shot back.

Vasquez’s grin widened. 

“No. I got specially called here, to show him my blueprints. Something you wouldn’t know. I heard Henderson scrapped your latest design.”

Rhys took a deep breath, trying to cool his anger. He was already several positions above this slimy man. There was no valid reason to be angry. He met Vasquez’s gaze evenly and smoothly replied,

“That’s what they want you to believe.”

For a moment, Vasquez wore a look of confusion and surprise, he was taken aback. Then he quickly shook his head. 

“Nonsense. You’re delusional. I’m going to bring you in with me, I’ll let Handsome Jack know some weirdo was lurking outside his door,” Vasquez decided. Rhys scowled. 

“What if I don’t want to go with you?”

Vasquez drew his stun baton from underneath his vest. 

“You’ll want to,” he threatened, sparking the end of weapon. Rhys paled and threw his hands up in surrender. 

“Okay okay, I get the message. You can put that away, I’ll go with you,” he genuinely stammered out. Vasquez looked pleased and stored the baton back under his vest. 

Rhys bit the inside of his cheek to keep from grinning. Oh man was Vasquez in for a treat. 

“Move over.”

Rhys was shoved aside as Vasquez strode forwards and rapped several short knocks on the door. No answer. Vasquez frowned. 

“Here let me,” Rhys offered. He held up his metallic arm and bashed on the door several times. A hollow clanging sound resonated. Vasquez shot him a withering look. Rhys grinned sheepishly. A voice crackled through the hidden speakers. 

“Jesus! Sugar, Im gonna snap your arm in half and shove it down your throat. Just ‘cause you’re loud doesn’t make you look smart, pro tip!” Jack’s temper seemed rather short this morning and he was quick with insults. 

Rhys and Vasquez glanced at each other. Vasquez gave Rhys a strange look. Rhys beamed.

Both sets of doors slid aside. Vasquez shoved Rhys forwards compelling him to go first. Rhys barely managed to keep the coffee in his hand from spilling. 

Meg wasn't seated at her usual spot that day. Rhys suddenly felt a stab of worry. Where was she? Oh god, Jack hadn’t killed her, had he? 

The two businessmen entered Jack’s office. The man himself was lounging in his gold chair, typing into the holographic screens in front of him. He swiped them away into thin air and sat forwards at their entrance. 

Vasquez and Rhys approached his desk. Rhys could practically feel Vasquez radiating excitement. 

“Sir! My apologies for being late, while I was outside your door I found this subordinate lurking nearby. I’m afraid he may be a spy, should I execute him for you?” Vasquez blurted out. 

Rhys first gave Vasquez an incredulous stare before he and Jack shared a glance. Rhys was holding in laughter. Jack wore a look of mild amusement.

Rhys broke into a series of coughs. Handsome Jack drew his pistol, examining the barrel. 

“I’m glad he was out there, I mean–” Jack laughed.

“–If he wasn't we’d have a little problem, wouldn’t we, Rhysie?” Jack implored smoothly, aiming the barrel down at Rhys. He mimed pulling the trigger and blowing smoke off the tip. 

Jack’s friendly threats were a common occurrence to Rhys, but they still triggered a bit of a flight or fight response. Rhys swallowed nervously but forced a smile.

"Your coffee’s getting cold,” he proclaimed dryly, striding forwards and placing down the drink on Jack’s desk. He then turned and settled down in the smaller chair at the desk. Jack clipped his weapon back to his belt loop and plucked up the coffee. 

Vasquez was observing their interaction back and forth, struggling to put two and two together. 

“Oh, you’re here too. Leave your junk on the desk. I’ll look at it later,” Jack waved a hand at Vasquez’s awkward form. Jack then leaned back, kicking his feet up on the desk. He took a swig of coffee. 

Rhys noticed dark circles under Jack's eyes. They peaked through his mask. Despite appearing friendly, Rhys could see a deadly scowl behind his features as Vasquez quietly did what was asked. 

“Will that be all, sir?” Vasquez mustered up the courage to speak. 

"You look kinda familiar," Jack squinted at him, straining to remember. Suddenly, his face suddenly lit up in recognition and he snapped his fingers. 

“Ohhhh. Oh it's you. I remember you! I knew you looked familiar! With the hair implants you look different, Wallethead!” 

Rhys let out a snort. Wallethead? He glanced quizzically between the two of them. Vasquez’s face had grown ashen. Jack let out a wheeze. 

“Oh! Cupcake, do I have a story for you! This guy, he used to be the executive in the mail office! Oh man and he-he’d gone bald at 26!” Jack threw his head back and roared with laughter. 

Vasquez was frozen solid, Rhys watched him slowly turn a light shade of pink and stifled a snigger, picturing Jack's description. 

Jack flicked a single glee-filled tear sliding off his mask. 

“I’d punch this guy in the face every day...every single day! Just a good right hook to the nose and he never once complained! Just stood there begging for it again!” He slapped his knee. 

“His bald head had these creases I’d try and fit as many dollar bills as I could in them before he realized. Hence the name Wallethead!” He ridiculed with a delighted grin.

Vasquez’s face was beet red. He was on the verge of explosion. He glued his mouth shut, knowing better to speak out of turn. Jack let out one final hoot. 

“All right,” his voice cracked. “You can leav–” Jack was cut off by a burst of laughter from beside him. Rhys couldn’t contain himself any longer. He doubled over, heaving from his core. Jack eyed him with humor and mild annoyance.

“W–Wallethead!” Rhys managed out, laughter shaking his core. 

“I can’t believe–I can’t believe you’ve been acting high and mighty all this time when your nickname is Wallethead!” Rhys chortled, pointing at him. 

A muscle in Vasquez's jaw twitched in rage. He tried to draw himself up taller and spit out a retort but Rhys could tell he was clearly struggling. 

“You can go now,” Jack said loudly over Rhys’s fit. At Jack's order, Vasquez spun around and stiffly stomped to the door. 

“I’m never gonna forget this, Wallethead!” Rhys bravely called out after him. Vasquez stormed out of the office in a rage. As his back disappeared around the corner, Jack chuckled.

"Well you make quite the smooth talker,” he commented as the exit doors slid shut. Rhys suddenly felt a prickle of self-consciousness. 

“You take after me a bit dontcha?” Jack proclaimed, a serious edge to his compliment. Rhys flashed a slight smile. 

“Thank you.”

Jack suddenly leaned forwards. His eyes narrowed into slits. A dangerous grin was creeping across his face. Rhys was suddenly vividly aware how close Jack was edging. 

“I could get rid of him for you and promote you directly under Henderson if you want. Just tell me how you want it done,” Jack offered in a low voice. A look of criminal glee sparkled in his eye. 

A moment passed before Jack's words completely sunk into Rhys's thoughts.

The piece of his mind that desired power screamed at him. _ Yes! Yes. This is a good opportunity! Let Jack take care of Vasquez, and you’ll be closer to the top than ever! _

_ Holy shit you’ve lost your mind Rhys. _ The more rational side of his brain argued. _ Where the hell are your morals? Vasquez isn’t even in your way anymore. Besides, he’s an innocent man! He’s a jackass, but he's innocent! It wouldn’t be right to kill him, he's just doing his job! _

Rhys’s rational brain won his internal struggle. He realized just how fucking twisted it would be to have Vasquez killed. Rhys shivered in discomfort as his mind projected images of Vasquez’s body laying crumpled on the floor, a bullet through the skull. He felt a tang of guilt for ever even considering the unmoralistic thought. 

Speaking of morals...Rhys began to seriously question Jack’s. He was offering to kill Vasquez...just like that? Was it really supposed to be that easy? Rhys couldn’t imagine killing anyone in such cold blood. Hah! Tough talk for someone who designed warfare. 

In all seriousness...Rhys wondered if Jack was truly sane. After all, he’d witnessed Jack kill a man in hot blood their first meeting. Was that Jack’s true nature? Had Rhys been blind to Jack all this time? No, Jack was a good person, deep down he had good intentions ...Right? 

“No–no that's okay, I’ll pass.”

Jack withdrew and studied Rhys with one raised eyebrow. 

"Huh, I thought for sure you’d bite into that one. You're just full of surprises,” Jack remarked. Rhys wasn’t quite sure how to respond. 

“I don’t like unnecessary killing,” he admitted. Jack heaved a massive sigh and rubbed his temple. 

“That's what they all say, even when the killing isn't unnecessary,” he said exasperated. Rhys frowned. He was very sure killing Vasquez _was un_necessary.

Okay...Yeah...maybe Rhys and Jack didn’t quite see eye to eye on certain things. That was fine, differing opinions weren't a major deal. 

Rhys’s eye buzzed as a message from Vaughn asking about dinner popped into his vision. Rhys quickly brushed holographic message away, accidentally sending a couple papers fluttering to the floor in the process. 

“Sorry!” Rhys immediately apologized and snatched the documents off the floor. Jack looked up over the paper statistics he was reading. 

“Eh whatever. My space is too cluttered anyways,” he dismissed. Rhys pondered this for a moment. 

“Well...I could organize them for you? File them all away. That is what a personal assistant would do...right?” He proposed, shuffling a couple papers off the desk and leafing through them. Jack waved him away.

“No. No! Put those down, idiot. I keep track of everything just fine myself,” Jack insisted. Rhys didn’t quite believe him. Jack crumpled up a piece of paper and chucked it at Rhys. The paper ball bopped him in the nose and he swatted it out of his face. 

“Don’t look at me like that! These are papers are for handsome eyes only. The words are too big for some lowlife like you to comprehend, now go! Get out, I have work to finish,” Jack chided him. Rhys stood, brushing off his vest and descended the platform. 

“See you tonight,” Rhys waved, turning towards the door. 

“Mm.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've got the plot for this fic all figured out. It's going to be about 50 chapters give or take. Bruh I really be out here plannin a full length novel huh


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vasquez gets vibe checked at the end of this chapter

Handsome Jack was standing in the center of his office gazing upwards at the high ceiling when Rhys walked in. Much to Rhys’s relief, Meg had returned to her usual post behind her desk. Rhys was worried something had happened to her. Meg laughed and showed him her new wedding ring. She’d taken the day off to get married to her girlfriend. 

Jack had his arms crossed, eyes glued upwards. He was muttering something about how bare the ceiling was. Rhys cautiously approached. 

“Jack? I have your reports.”

Jack turned around. He smiled upon seeing Rhys. 

“Great, drop ‘em off at the desk.”

Rhys did as told. He’d had a rather quiet workday, save the events during the morning. Vasquez had steered clear of him for the remainder of the day. 

Jack frowned.

“You think the office needs more decor?” He asked suddenly. Rhys took a passing glance around the room. The first thing to catch his eye were fresh bloodstains smeared into the carpet. He followed the trail with his eyes all the way until...yep. The airlock hatch. A man had died here. Or woman. 

Rhys suddenly felt queasy. He was really beginning to dislike Jack’s habit of daily homicide. He tore his eyes away from the carpet stains and instead looked up at the walls. 

He hadn’t noticed before, but there were several potted plants in the corners and a couple artistic renditions of Jack framed about. Jack’s ego never ceased to impress Rhys. The gorgeous view of space from the bay windows was the most noticeable decoration, however. 

Rhys leaned against the desk, Jack still stood in the middle of the room, hands on his hips. Rhys tapped his chin with one cold metal finger. 

“No, I think it’s already great,” he admitted. 

“The view of Pandora is gorgeous,” Rhys observed, looking behind him. Jack snorted. 

“Not as gorgeous as me.” 

Rhys stifled a smile.

“Not so sure about that one.”

Jack pouted.

“You’ve broken my heart, Rhysie, you’ve shattered it.”

“Very funny. Is there anything else you need?” Rhys asked curtly. Jack frowned. 

“Well someone’s in a snappy mood today. Cheer up, I can’t have negative influences in my life,” Jack chided him. He put a hand up to the metal clasp on his chin in thought. 

“I did have something else for you actually…let’s see…”

His eyes narrowed, studying him. Rhys shuffled awkwardly. 

“Uhh…”

“Yellow or blue?” Jack blurted out. 

“For what?”

“That’s a secret. What color fits you better?” Jack re-stated. 

“Uhhh ...blue,” Rhys decided. 

“I agree. Would have gone with blue anyways even if you picked yellow.”

“Right. What’s this for?” Rhys asked at a loss. 

“I told you, it’s a secret. Are you illiterate? Get your ECHOeye to tell you the definition or something,” Jack shot at him. Rhys rolled his eyes. 

Jack swaggered up to his desk, to Rhys who was standing near the small office chair. He placed a firm grasp on Rhys’s right shoulder. Rhys was forced to stare directly into his eyes. A dangerous glint sparkled somewhere in their depths. 

“Y’know, you’re not a bad PA. I sometimes wonder why I let you talk to me, the way you do. I don’t know why but you’ve got this certain charm. Makes you less killable.”

Realization flickered across Jack’s features as it dawned on him that he had just made Rhys feel very, very afraid. He let go of Rhys’s shoulder and spread his hands in a half surrender. 

“Heyyy heyy. Don’t get all clammy, I ain't gonna kill ya, I’m telling you something positive,” Jack reassured him. Rhys was not quite reassured. Jack leaned forward and rested an elbow on Rhys’s left shoulder. Rhys stiffened, unsure of what to do. Jack was now positioned beside him. He raised his other hand and gestured around the office. A blue bracelet tattoo wringed his wrist. Rhys had never noticed that detail before.

“Y’know, it’ll be a looong time before you ever get your hands on this,” Jack said. Rhys gave him a side-glance. Jack's expression was unreadable.

Rhys’s gears turned. His gaze clouded with confusion. Did Jack think Rhys had a plan to take the office from him? Scratch that. Did Jack just make a subtle implication that Rhys would somehow sometime, become CEO? Rhys gave him another side look. He was rather close. Rhys had no intention of seizing the office from Jack, he thought out his next words carefully. 

“I...wasn’t planning on it…”

Rhys decided not to play the dumb card. Rhys knew that Jack knew that Rhys was smart and could figure out exactly what Jack had been implying. 

Jack withdrew his arm, noting the confusion in Rhys’s gaze. 

“Ok. Good to know,” he gave a grin. 

“You would never betray me, Rhysie. No, you’re too dedicated. I heard your conversation with Wallethead this morning outside my office. I have this sneaking suspicion he was telling the truth about some things. Are you obsessed with me?”

_ Oh. My. Fucking. God. _Suddenly, Rhys regretted passing up the offer for Vasquez’s painful demise. 

“Uh...ah-I...n–no,” Rhys stammered out quickly. Shit. He felt his face burn. He was on fire. Rhys suddenly desired to be anywhere in the galaxy except for beside Handsome Jack. 

Jack put his head in his hands and let out a pained groan. 

“You hesitated...oh no...Why do all the good minds in this place got a weird obsession? I thought you were different, Rhysie,” Jack pinched the bridge of his nose. 

Rhys suddenly flew into a panic. 

“Hey wait a minute that’s not fair! I don’t I swear! Vasquez was just trying to make up something to embarrass me, I swear it’s not true. I don’t have a weird obsession, I don’t even have an interest! I'm not even at your level! You’re not even my type!” Rhys managed out breathlessly. He waved his arms frantically, attempting some sort of damage control. He pushed down the little voice in his head. _ Jack is very pretty. He is your type. _

_ SHUT UP. THAT DOES NOT HELP THE CURRENT SITUATION. _

Jack looked up at Rhys’s half shout. He seemed taken aback. 

“Calm down! I was joking. Partially. I don’t care if you do, everyone loves me, it actually be weird if you didn't” Jack winked. Rhys’s face was flushed bright red from a mixture of embarrassment and anger mostly at himself.

Jack suddenly jumped. Rhys was thankful for the cut in the tension. 

“Right! I almost forgot! One of your prototypes came in, hold on,” Jack disappeared behind his desk. As Rhys calmed his racing heart and the embarrassment faded from his cheeks, he peered over the desk as Jack popped up again. 

In his hands was a sleek pistol. Painted Hyperion yellow and black. Jack pointed it in the air and flicked a lever. The ammunition chamber spun neatly, and a blue light flickered to life. 

Rhys recognized his own handiwork. This particular weapon was designed to be compact but hold and fire every type of elemental ammunition. 

“I hope you at least know to fire a gun.”

Jack tossed it over. Rhys fumbled with the catch. In his hands, the gun weighed more than it appeared. That was expected. It was sleek, and cold. It had a similar feel to his robotic arm. 

Pride washed over Rhys. A warm feeling that spilled over him from head to toe. This was his work. It had come to life in his hands. He experimentally slid his hand into position and pointed it at the ceiling. The weapon was spectacularly balanced in his grip. He couldn’t keep the grin off his face. 

“Is it loaded?” He asked, examining the trigger. Jack nodded. 

“Yeah. Don't be stupid and miss any shots. That ammunition was real expensive to make.”

Rhys knew that. He’d designed ammunition as well. It was made from eridium. Through concentrated amounts of elemental substances combined with eridium, he made a mechanism that fit inside the gun. It doused the bullet in the firing chamber with an element. Conveniently, it could be swapped with any other element at any time in any position. It was a clever little thing Rhys thought up. 

He quickly fumbled with the loop at his belt and slid the barrel through. Making sure it was secure, he stood taller and put his hands on his hips, grinning proudly. 

“Thank you, Jack,” he said, eyes bright. Jack sat back in his chair. 

“No problem. If there are any issues with it, let me know. I’ll whip the prototype department into shape,” he gave a grin of encouragement at Rhys. 

“Alright, that's all. You can leave now.”

Rhys spun on a heel, happiness flowing in his veins. 

“Have good night.”

“You too, pumpkin.” 

\----------

In order to de-stress from the days events, Rhys made himself tea and piled blankets up around himself, huddled in his bed. He felt safe this way. Vaughn was asleep. Right now it was just Rhys under his blanket pile. The only light was a soft blue, gently pulsing from a projected light in his arm. Sipping his tea, he sighed. The warmth was nice. 

Oh man what a day he’d had. First he had to deal with Vasquez’s shit. That had been a stressful yet amusing morning. Then Handsome fucking Jack asked if Rhys had feelings for him. That made Rhys’s blood boil. He did _ not. _ He would _ never. _Jack was a very heterosexual man. He’d had many wives. Rumor had it, he even had a daughter. Sure he was pretty, but he was way out of Rhys’s league. 

Rhys sucked in his tea aggressively. This was all Vasquez’s fault. If he’d just keep his mouth shut, none of that would have happened. Rhys wasn't one-hundred percent convinced Jack didn’t believe Vasquez. It hadn’t really seemed to bother Jack through...yeah, Jack would probably forget about it by the next day. Rhys reassured himself. 

And then there was the weapon prototype. Rhys was overjoyed at the sight. He glanced over at it, tucked away in its holster pinned to the wall. Rhys had taken mandatory gun training classes in his first year at Helios. He hadn’t needed much practice with aim, since his ECHOeye made him a nice one-hundred percent accuracy rate. Sure Rhys knew how to fire a gun but that didn’t mean he enjoyed it. 

Rhys wasn’t a big fighter. He was more of a…subtle kill...if that made sense. 

He drained the last dregs of his tea and placed his mug on his headboard. He removed his arm and fluffed his blankets around him. Rubbing his eyes he yawned, head hitting the pillow. Had been a big day, more were sure to follow. He needed rest. At last, sleep took him away and he lay snoring safely beneath the comfort of his covers. 

\----------

The days passed in a blur. Rhys was at the top of his class in doing...well PA things. Jack remarked Rhys was probably the best he’d had. Vasquez generally ignored Rhys at work, casting him the occasional withering glance. Although, behind the rage in his eyes, was a cloud of fear. 

Rhys was very satisfied. It was almost like a dream come true. He worked directly for Handsome Jack on top of being a successful weapons engineer. Vasquez was no longer a problem and Rhys was getting a larger salary. Well, almost a dream come true. Jack still didn’t really trust Rhys yet. 

\----------

One afternoon, Rhys was enjoying his lunch with Yvette and Vaughn. Yvette hadn’t been mentioning her quarrels and questioning about how moralistic Hyperion was that much. It was only the occasional quip here and there. Vaughn was wolfing down his sandwich. Both Yvette and Rhys watched him in disgust.

“Don’t look at me like that! I'm starving!” He protested, voice muffled by his food. Yvette snorted. 

“Take it easy big guy. Don’t die. Slow down.”

Vaughn gulped down the end of his sandwich and picked up his napkin. 

“What did you want to tell us about?” Rhys asked. Vaughn rubbed the corners of his mouth and looked down sadly at his now-empty plate. 

“I’m getting to that!” He snapped before breaking out in a coughing fit. Both Yvette and Rhys shared a look. Rhys pushed Vaughn a glass of water. 

“Here man, drink up.”

Vaughn chugged the water with impressive speed. He slapped the glass down on the table and beamed at both Rhys and Yvette seated across from him. They looked back, confusedly. 

“I got a promotion!” Vaughn announced excitedly. Yvette leaned forwards in interest. 

“No way.”

Rhys raised a hand and gave Vaughn a massive high-five. 

“Congratulations, bro!”

Vaughn was unable to keep a beaming grin off his face. He pushed his glasses up on his nose, struggling to keep a professional look. 

Yvette was smiling. 

“What's your title now? Are you legally allowed to boss Rhys around?”

Rhys smacked her arm, “Hey!” She laughed. 

Vaughn shook his head. 

“Unfortunately no, not yet-” _ He’d never be able to, you're far above him. _Rhys’s inner voice chimed in. His smile faltered for a minute. 

“-I’m on the same level as Vasquez now! Just in a different profession. I’m directly under Henderson and I keep an extra close eye on the entire department’s budget now. I can make important decisions!” Vaughn continued eagerly. Rhys grinned. 

“I’m so happy for you, bro.”

“Does this mean you get a pay raise?” Yvette asked. Vaughn nodded. She pumped her fist. 

“Yes! You can pay for my lunch now too!” 

Vaughn laughed loudly.

A pang of guilt suddenly flashed through Rhys. Gosh, was really starting to have an ego? His first thought at Vaughn’s news shouldn't have been a triumphant _ I’m still better than you. _Rhys rubbed his temple. Jack was rubbing off on him. 

“That’s not even the best part! Because I’m such a high rank, Henderson has invited me to the exclusive, executive party this month!” He announced proudly to his friends. Rhys pouted. 

“Well have fun without us!”

“Bring me special snacks. Those little fancy table cookies,” Yvette demanded, placing her hands on the table. She leaned forward eagerly. 

“I will pay you.”

Vaughn grinned. 

“It’s a deal.”

Rhys was about to comment on ‘ways to sneak small party snacks, out of said party’ when a shadow crossed their table. Glancing up, his eyes widened.

Vasquez that goddamned FUCKING bastard. Momentary panic flooded Rhys’s system and he struggled to keep a cool gaze. Shit, why was he here? Of all place? Rhys then realized Vasquez knew about Rhys’s work relationship with Handsome Jack. Oh no. What if Vasquez spilled something? Rhys’s jaw clenched. For a moment he thought about straight up strangling him, just to keep him quiet.

If Vasquez prattled about Rhys and Jack in front of Yvette and Vaughn. Oh no. If Jack found out someone knew about _them...ah shit._

“What are you doing here?” Rhys spat out venomously. He bristled with hostility. Vasquez’s eyes narrowed. 

“Congratulating Vaughn here, for his promotion, what else?” He smirked at Rhys before offering a handshake to Vaughn who gazed at the offer with disgust. Vasquez withdrew his hand. 

“Well, congratulations anyways Vaughn! Although compared to your friend Rhys here, it really isn’t much is it?”

What the fuck? A blind hot anger settled over Rhys. He clenched his fist and ground his jaw furiously. He knew he couldn’t say anything in front of his friends. Vaughn and Yvette simply looked bewildered. 

“I–What?” Rhys sputtered out. Vasquez wore an expression of mock surprise. 

“Don’t tell me, you haven’t told them?”

“Rhys, what’s he on about?” Yvette asked curiously. Panic bloomed in Rhys's chest. He forced himself to remain calm. 

“I don’t know. I think he’s trying to start rumors,” Rhys whispered loudly to his friends. He shot Vasquez a withering look of contempt. 

“Well it turns out, Rhys here seems to have a seemingly close relationship with the one and only Ha–” 

It happened in a blur. Vasquez couldn’t finish his sentence before Rhys’s curled steel fist crashed into his nose. Rhys shot to his feet, blood spattering his knuckles. Vasquez let out a cry and stumbled back, clutching his face. Blood spilled out from between his fingers. Rhys had broken his nose with a square right hook to the face. Vaughn and Yvette scrambled to their feet in disbelief. 

Rhys loomed over Vasquez, red hot fury hazing his vision. 

“You punched me!” Vasquez cried out incredulously. Nobody around them paid any mind. Occasional scraps in the lunch room weren’t uncommon. 

“You–”

The pounding in Rhys’s head began. He felt the blood rushing through his veins. His fury cleared for an instant, allowing him to realize how ludicrous the scene looked. 

He, Rhys Strongfork, had just beaten down his semi-boss with a single blow. Yvette’s hand was over her mouth in disbelief. Vaughn wore a similar aghast expression. 

“Bro, what the hell are you doing?” He exclaimed. 

Rhys’s mind raced, trying to come up with a way to play this off. He stood frozen, watching Vasquez clutch his nose and stagger upright. 

“I’ll be reporting this to Henderson. I’ll have you airlocked for this,” Vasquez spat furiously. Blood splattered all over the floor. 

Rhys’s knees suddenly felt very weak. He collapsed back onto the nearest lunch chair. The realization sparked through him that playing this off as defeated and horrified over what he’d done, was probably his safest bet. He covered his mouth in mock horror. 

“Oh my god...oh shit what have I done,” he sputtered out. That part was genuine. This was not good. 

“I am so sorry, sir,” Rhys bowed his head in shame. Vasquez’s eyes were alight with fury. He spat a mixture of blood and saliva at Rhys’s feet. 

“Go to hell.”

Vasquez spun around. 

“I need a janitor over here!” He yelled, storming out of the cafeteria. 

Rhys watched his retreating form disappear around a corner. He looked over with a slight twinge of amusement towards Vaughn and Yvette’s horrified faces. 

“Shit, I'm gonna get airlocked for that aren't I?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a little longer than usual! I hope that makes up for my almost week absence.  
Cool Solius fact: I'm working on the rough draft of Chapter 12 atm, that's why I haven't been updating as much bc I'm focusing on getting the rough draft out first : )


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing Jack has proved to be a real difficult task. I am begging you to critique me or at least tell me how I can improve his characterization. Please PLEASE!! Tell me critiques or comments or notes on how I'm writing him and how it could be improved or changed.

To Rhys’s utter surprise, the consequences of his royal act in smashing Vasquez’s nose were next to none. Henderson pulled him aside one afternoon for a little chat. 

“Rhys, I’m going to have to report this to Handsome Jack. You assaulted the VP of your department!”

Rhys held no concerns or qualms about this. Knowing Jack, he would probably die laughing at the notion of Vasquez getting his shit kicked in. And he did. 

Jack wheezed at the note from Henderson. He chuckled in disbelief that Rhys had actually dared to do something so drastic. 

“Wish I was there to see it,” was his response. 

“My Rhysie, Finally standing up for himself,” he sniffed proudly. Rhys hadn’t even told him that he’d done it to keep his job as PA under wraps. 

\----------

Henderson genuinely seemed surprised to see Rhys return. He locked eyes with Rhys from across the room before shaking his head and hurrying away. Rhys grinned. He’d been having the time of his life the past week at his new job. Handsome Jack was bearable, and he tolerated Rhys. It was an ...okay sort of...partnership?

\----------

One morning, Rhys woke from his slumber to find a message waiting on his ECHOpad. It was from Jack. 

_ bring 2 coffees this morning one of them is for u _

Rhys wasn’t entirely sure why Jack asked him to do it but he went along with his instructions. He rode the elevator as he did everyday, except he had a coffee in each hand. Hands full, he resorted to kicking the door to get Meg’s attention. She let him in without any further query other than, 

“G’Morning.” 

Rhys looked around for Jack. There he was, seated behind his desk as always, pouring over papers. Rhys approached, not entirely sure what he was supposed to do. 

“Morning,” Rhys cleared his throat. Jack glanced up. He had circles under his eyes. 

“Mornin. Got two coffees? Good. Have-Ha-” Jack broke off in a yawn. He blinked shook his head. 

“Gimme the drink,” he ordered grumpily. Rhys handed over his specified. Out of nowhere Jack produced a bottle of whiskey and poured a shot into his coffee. He took a long drag before shivering and sitting up straighter. 

“Yeah that’s the stuff. Take a seat, I want to have a little..._ chat _with you.”

Little chats seemed to be a common occurrence in Rhys’s life lately. Rhys’s eyes darted around nervously. That sounded ominous. He clutched his coffee with one metallic arm and took a shaky sip. He tried to relax in his chair. He leaned back, stretching out his long spindly legs. 

“So. Let’s have a chat about your reliability lately.”

Uh oh. Rhys felt the blood drain from his cheeks. Oh no. This couldn’t be good. His mind raced to come up with all the possible candidates of fuck-ups Jack would want to talk about. He began subconsciously clicking his metal fingers together. It was a small behavior triggered by his anxiety, which had definitely increased the past week. 

Jack had really been keeping Rhys on his toes. He often stressed over whether he was doing an acceptable job or not. He worried over being killed a few times a day. 

“Don’t look so pale,” Jack frowned. Rhys looked up. 

“Sorry…?”

“I ain’t gonna kill ya. If I really wanted to, I’d have done it by now,” Jack tried to reassure him. Rhys nodded blankly, not entirely believing what he just said. 

“Hey! If you don't stop stressing, I will kill you. I need you to be mentally and physically in health if you wanna keep being my assistant,” he asserted a little more forcefully. 

Rhys’s fingers continued to clack. 

“I don’t know what you mean. I’m fine, I’m healthy,” Rhys said indignantly. He was quite remarkably unconvincing. His voice was riddled with an anxious note. Jack took another swig of coffee and leaned forwards, studying him with narrowed eyes. 

“I'm not going to kill you. I save the killing for traitors and people who get on my bad side on our first meeting,” Jack snorted. That only slightly eased Rhys’s stress. 

“Really?”

“Yep. The second scenario you've already passed! Just don’t be a traitor and you’ll be stayin’ alive,” Jack grinned, leaning back. Rhys took a nervous sip of his coffee. It was nice and hot. 

“That is good to know, I guess,” Rhys stammered. 

Jack tapped his fingers together. 

“Seriously, you’re good, pumpkin. You got nothing to worry about. I can see you from time to time through cameras around the station. You’re doing very well. It’s good you’ve got at least two braincells to rub together. Haven’t told your two lunch-buddies about your job.”

“Er...thanks...I guess,” Rhys gave an awkward smile. This was good. He seemed to be gathering the fringes of Handsome Jack's trust. Jack grinned. 

“I think I should give you a little treat, for doing such a good job around here.” 

Rhys nearly choked on his drink. He coughed into his arm. 

“Y-Yes..?” He managed out. Jack set his coffee down and rose from his seat. He dug around some drawer on the other side of his desk. Rhys peered over the table edge curiously. Jack popped up again, holding a neatly folded stack of clothes. 

He tossed a light-blue collared shirt at Rhys who caught it and held it out. 

“And this is….?” Rhys trailed off expectantly. 

“What else would it be? You said you wanted blue, so here's a new outfit, sugar. You're my PA, I at least want you to look a little more important than some desk jockey,” Jack replied. Rhys lowered the shirt and took the remaining pieces of clothing from Jacks hand. Altogether, it was a new vest, collared undershirt and pants. Thin blue lines ran through the right pant leg and left arm. In complete honesty, Rhys thought it was a rather snappy outfit. Very nice. High quality.

“Woah this looks nice. Thanks,” Rhys expressed his gratitude. He supposed it would be nice to have a new outfit.

“With great looks, is great power,” Jack proclaimed. 

“Just take me for example! I am incredibly handsome, and I'm the richest, deadliest man alive! Anyways, the new getup isn’t all I have planned. You, are coming with me to the next prototype meeting. It’s all the executive department heads, so try not to fuck anything up,” Jack grinned wildly. 

Rhys gaped at him. Rhys was accompanying Jack to an important meeting? No way. A prototype meeting? Did this mean Rhys’s prototypes would be there?

Rhys’s eyes lit up with excitement. 

“Thank you so much! When is the meeting at?” He asked eagerly. 

“Tonight. I’ll send directions to your ECHOpad when it’s time.”

Tonight? Tonight? Rhys felt dizzy. He was going to executive meeting, tonight!?

Jack scowled. 

“But first, gotta see how that suit looks on you. Go change somewhere and get back here in 5, or I’m gonna–” Rhys was on his feet and briskly walking out the door. 

In the corridor, he ducked into the nearest bathroom. It was empty. His work shoes echoed against the bare tiles. In the privacy of a stall, he quickly stripped and then wrestled on his new clothes. He stepped out into the light and examined his new self in the bathroom mirror. 

The outfit was sharp, it looked good. Very professional. A shiny new Hyperion badge gleamed. Rhys cuffed his left sleeve and frowned in the mirror. The new fit seemed to be missing something. Something seemed flawed. 

Rhys held up his old red tie compared it to his outfit. It’s color clashed a bit but Rhys decided that it brought the outfit together as a full. He looped it around his collar and stepped back, putting his hands on his hips, mimicking Jack. Oh yeah, it was all coming together now. Rhys smoothed out his gelled hair, making sure it was slicked back properly. He tucked a stray piece back behind his ear. 

Upon Rhys’s re-entry into the office Jack whistled. 

“Wooh. You’re looking very professional. Almost as handsome as me, too. A horrifying thought to think anyone could compare to me, but here we are.”

Rhys could barely comprehend that Jack had just made an incredibly flattering compliment. Brain frazzled, all he could think was _ holy shit Handsome Jack just compared himself to me what in the actual–_

Rhys couldn’t even stammer out a ‘thank you.’ He could already feel his face burning. Embarrassed, all he could manage was,

“Thanks–I know.”

He immediately grew redder realizing how stuck-up that sounded. He was about to apologize when Jack laughed. 

“Good attitude, kitten! That’s what I'm lookin' for,” he grinned. 

Rhys could no longer form words. Instead he stood there awkwardly, trying to cool off the hot feeling in his chest and his loud throbbing heartbeat. He set his face in a slight frown in order to calm himself. 

_ Act how you look, Rhys. Be more professional. You’re attending an executive meeting tomorrow, remember? _A small voice advised in his head. 

Right! He was going to be present in a room full of executives the next day, he should be acting appropriately. Rhys exhaled, and squared his shoulders. Finally the burn in his cheeks was disappearing, although the lightheaded feeling remained. 

“You’ll send me the directions?” He asked, quickly changing the subject. Jack was still eyeing Rhys. His gaze was piercing as he studied Rhys’s figure. 

“Mmhmm,” he nodded looking up. Rhys straightened out his vest. His casual clothes still hung off his arm. 

“And...this is only for special occasions, right? I can’t wear this to the office, it’s much too fancy,” Rhys said, glancing down at his new clothes. 

“Yeah, don’t dirty it by tonight, thanks,” Jack remarked. Rhys nodded. He glanced at his watch. He should be headed to the office. 

Jack plucked a couple papers off his desk and picked up a pen. He waved it at his PA. 

“Go on. Get going. I have work to do,” Jack shooed him. Rhys nodded and whirled around on his heel, a new strut in his steps. 

“Have a nice day!” He called back. There was no response as Jack had already busied himself nose deep in paperwork. 

\----------

Rhys changed back before meeting up with his friends for lunch. His excitement throughout the day had continued to grow, and he was practically radiating eagerness. Both his friends were bewildered at his high emotion. 

“What are you so excited about? You're practically shaking,” Yvette finally asked, exasperated. Vaughn looked at him expectantly.

A mysterious grin tugged at Rhys’s lips. 

“Oh, I’ve just had a…call it a breakthrough with a new design.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a short filler chapter! My writing process is: Publish a chapter, Write 1 1/2 chapters. Later chapters like 14 and 15 and above are a bit longer, so updates may come out a bit slower since I'm working ahead so much.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a gore warning I guess?? Someone gets blown up. Typical conference meeting thingy on Helios

Rhys stood at the full length mirror in his apartment. He studied himself from different angles. In his opinion, he looked goddamn amazing. His outfit was sharp and complimented his jawline. The shining new pistol prototype of his own design swung at his hip. To him, it really brought the whole thing together. He looked fly as hell. It took everything in his willpower not to finger gun at himself.

Rhys made a face at his reflection, giving his best impression of a cool well-oiled professional. Tighten the lips, narrow the eyes…

He held it up for a few seconds before sighing. He looked ridiculous. He shoved his hands in his pockets and gave his reflection one more side eye before turning away. His appearance was fine, he needed to stop worrying. 

Vaughn wasn’t home yet so the apartment was empty. Rhys sighed, plopping down on the couch. His ECHOpad sat on the counter across the room. As he lay back on the couch, he glanced at it every so often waiting for it to buzz with instructions from Jack. 

He drummed his fingers on his pant leg. This was it. He was advancing even higher on the corporate ladder. Jack now trusted him enough to bring him to a prototype meeting. 

Minutes passed in an agonizing crawl, everything seemed slower. Rhys was rifling through his kitchen cabinets for a last minute snack when the ECHOpad FINALLY buzzed. In seconds he dashed to its side, reading the message from Jack. 

Opening the map of Helios on his device, he saw that a little red line zig-zagged up stories and across floors. It would lead him to the correct meeting room. 

_ Starts at 6:46 so get there before then _

Was Jack’s only written message. Rhys tucked his ECHOpad into his back pocket and took one last observation of his appearance. He smoothed down his hair and grinned. It was finally time. 

\----------

With the help of his device, Rhys found his way to the designated meeting room. He stood outside the door and took a deep breath, smoothing out his tie. He was a few minutes early. 

_ Okay, this is it. _

He reached for the door handle and swept inside. 

The meeting room was large. A massive ovular table sat in the middle with about a dozen chairs stationed around. Most of them were occupied by important looking men and women in sophisticated suits. A few of them wracked their gaze over Rhys, taking him in. 

He stood a little straighter and tried to bare a business sort of expression. His lips pressed together in a thin line, brows narrowed slightly. 

Rhys spotted Jack sitting at one end of the table. Jack waved at his PA and patted down the seat next to him. 

Rhys strolled over and sat down. He adjusted his vest to be more comfortable and glanced around. 

A few of the people had stacks of papers in front of them by their hand. Some of the seats hadn’t been filled yet although a couple people filed in as the minutes went by. Many of the executives present, studied Rhys with curiosity, fear or confusion. Jack leaned over. 

“Good to see you made it,” he remarked. Rhys just nodded. 

“Thank you for letting me be here.”

“Nothing held ya up on the way over, then?” Jack asked. 

“Uh…yep.”

The two were silent for a few moments before Rhys leaned over. 

“So..what’s this meeting going to be about?” He asked curiously. 

“Prototypes. The corporate asses here are gonna talk about the newest designs their department scrapped together. It’s all strategies and budget and blah blah blah. I’m here to give my very valuable advice and opinions, and input, and keep everyone in line,” Jack explained in a low voice. 

Rhys wasn’t sure if he really wanted to know what “keeping everyone in line” meant. With Jack’s natural snarky and charismatic voice, Rhys had a sneaking suspicion it implied some sort of violence.

Jack glanced down at his watch as the final executives filled in the remaining seats. All sets of eyes were now trained on Jack, Rhys sitting by his left hand. 

“Evenin’ folks! Look more excited will ya? This isn’t a funeral, no one’s died uh...yet. We’ve got a serious agenda to cover today,” Jack snapped, leaning back in his chair. Those eyes all turned downwards and papers shuffled across the desk. Jack clapped his hands together, heaving a massive sigh. 

“Okay, time's up. Torrett, you’re up first!”

Jack called out. A small statured man stood and pushed up his glasses. He began to speak about turrets. Rhys did his best to pay attention to Torret’s speech but found it mighty difficult. Between his droning voice and Jack being...well...Jack beside him, it was a challenge. 

As time went on, it turned out Jack’s definition of ‘input’ was verbally ripping the speakers into pieces. What stupid insults and quips that came flying out of his mouth were incredibly humorous. Rhys found himself both laughing and feeling incredible fear for the safety of the executives speaking. 

None of the other employees looked particularly mortified. A few of them coughed awkwardly to stifle a snicker. Jack would silence them with his signature look of disregard™ and they knew to shut up quickly or run the risk of his fury befalling on their heads. 

As executives spoke, Jack gave each and every one of them a good roasting. The speakers on the receiving end of his seemingly endless banter, appeared mortified. 

“Yadda-yadda that all sounds like a load of crap.”

“The blowtorches didn’t work? Make the barrels two inches then. It should be easy enough to measure, just use your dick for a comparison.”

“Are you illiterate? Were you dropped on the head as a child?”

“Sasher I will fucking shoot you if you don’t shut the fuck up. Nobody friggin cares your department is lacking funding.”

Were just a few snippets of line that came out of Jack’s mouth. On top of this, he would also occasionally lean over and make some remarks quietly to Rhys who found it increasingly difficult to maintain a cool expression.

\----------

After about twenty minutes of this, Rhys could tell Jack turning a bit more irritated by the second. He was slowly getting snappier and more impatient. None of the other executives seemed to notice, but Rhys did. He’d been around Jack enough to tell what his danger moods looked like. 

The next speaker finished speaking and Jack stood. 

“Rhysie, pass me the prototype why dontcha?” Jack asked, palm open. Rhys quickly drew it, and handed it over. Jack held it up in his palm. Light bounced off its sleek surface.

“This baby right here is an example of an acceptable weapon. Take a good look ladies, gents and others, this is the level of the shit you idiots should be able to produce.”

“This is a little project I call Project 1S3C. ISEC for short. It incorporates every type of elemental damage into one firearm. Packed into this little baby is any type of bullet you need. Fire, electricity, acid and my favorite, explosions!” Jack grinned wildly. 

“I want you fuckheads to make the same elemental effects, but with the weapon classes of your department. I want turrets, loader bot mods, sniper rifles, multi-shot shotguns, the double shotguns whatever your department is in charge of, I want a weapon able to fire whatever element whenever.”

“It should be the same quality as this one here. Henderson’s department–” Jack looked around. Henderson was not present. 

“Did a fine job. I expect the same quality from you all. I want final blueprints in three weeks.”

Rhys’s expression twinged. The way Jack had worded his statement, he made it appear that the weapon 'manufactured by Henderson’s department’ was a team effort. Which it had most certainly NOT been. He glanced over at Jack who wore a rather smug, pleased expression. Rhys scowled. It seemed like Jack had no intentions of mentioning exactly _ who _ had come up with the design. That did not sit well with Rhys. He wanted his name known. He wanted people to know that _ he, _Rhys Strongfork was the mind behind the first model. 

The thought of speaking out and running the risk of interrupting Jack in order to say _ “Oh hey. I’m the maker of that weapon, it’s mine” _ran through his head briefly before Rhys realized the gravity of the situation. 

Currently, Jack’s mood was much less than ideal and there was a very real possibility that he’d just shoot Rhys point blank for speaking out. 

So, much to his irritation, Rhys kept his mouth shut. Smart choice. Just then, it was revealed someone at the table didn’t have Rhys’s level of intelligence. A woman stood, opening her mouth. She spoke out, interrupting Jack just as he was about to continue. 

“All due respect, sir, this isn’t fair. Henderson’s department didn’t have a deadline and it has a larger budget. It’s not possible–” a small murmur passed through the executives. Jack was already on his feet, dead silent. Rhys could feel the tension building.

Rhys’s knees hit the table in a bang as he violently flinched. 

A crack sounded from behind him as a bullet whistled past his ear and buried itself in the forehead of the woman who had just spoken out. Her eyes glazed over and she gazed off into space, surprise etched in her dying expression. Blood trickled down her face, rolling off her cheeks. Her eyes rolled up before she slumped over, head falling to the table with a thump. 

“Aaaaand, explosion!” Jack roared. The people seated beside the now-dead woman scrambled away from their chairs as a blast rocked the meeting room. 

A thin veil of smoke hung about the room. Rhys coughed, eyes watering. When the smoke cleared, he suddenly wished it hadn't. 

The woman was reduced to nothing but a mess of bone shards and a bloody pulp, splattered across the table. Rhys retched, covering his mouth in horror at the sight. 

Jack was laughing in glee. 

“Oh my god that was hilarious! Look at that! Her head just-poof! Just like that!” He doubled over, clutching his stomach and heaving with mirth. 

“It looks like friggin’ ketchup!”

Rhys was going to be sick. He looked back at the CEO. God, what the fuck was wrong with his boss? Seriously? Rhys genuinely considered re-thinking his position as Handsome Jack’s PA. The hot-blooded killing was starting to mess with his head. 

“Ugh. Gross. There's blood on my shirt. Sugar, call a janitor will ya?”

Jack straightened up behind him. 

“Y–Yep. On i-it,” Rhys stammered. He fumbled with his ECHOpad. His flesh hand tremored from adrenaline rush and a prickle of fear. 

Jack heaved a great sigh and sat back down in his chair. His expression was dark. Moody. Rhys could tell he was angry. 

The rest of the executives wore stone ashen faces, riddled with terror. A few stood, covered in blood and fleshy bits. Someone had thrown up the contents of their dinner. 

Everyone had the expression of wanting to run as far away as possible and never look back. Jack didn’t let them. 

“Sit your asses back down! I don’t care if there's a mess on your chair, grow up, it's just a bit of goop. This meeting isn’t finished.”

The heavy scent of metallic blood washed over Rhys’s senses and he felt lightheaded. He blinked slowly, holding up a hand and trying to settle his queasiness. 

Slowly people reluctantly returned to their seats. Faces around the room revealed they’d rather be anywhere but here. 

Jack barked for the next speaker to go. They did, stammering through their words and trying exceptionally hard to catch Handsome Jack’s sharp gaze or look at the bloody pulp of the woman left on the table. Jack was still grinning, head on one hand, watching the rest of the meeting with a dark twisted glint in his eye. 

He continued to insult the employees and the meeting went on as if nothing happened. 

Rhys himself was a bit pissed at the fact that Jack hadn’t given him credit, but he decided it would be wise to bring it up another time. 

The time flew past. Rhys could barely stand the stench from what was left of the dead body. As the meeting closed, the members were quick to jump up and race out of the room. 

“Yeah yeah can’t handle my greatness for so long, huh?” Jack waved the pistol. He then tossed the prototype back to Rhys. They were the only ones left in the room. Rhys looked sideways at Jack. He was sitting, rubbing his fingers together and clenching his jaw in agitation. 

After a moment Jack stood and Rhys followed suit. He was considering confronting Jack about the lack of credit. Jack brushed past him and towards the door. 

“Hey! Wait,” Rhys called, jogging to catch up with him. 

“You have long legs, catch up to me yourself.”

They stepped into the hallway and Rhys took a deep breath of fresh air. Oh how glad he was to breath without inhaling bloody body parts. 

Jack didn’t halt. Rhys caught up with him. 

“That was a great meeting! I even got to demonstrate the prototype firsthand and up close!”

They were headed back to the office. 

“You didn’t mention me at all back there,” Rhys ventured. He observed Jack’s face. 

“What are you, fame-hungry all of a sudden? Ah shit, I knew this was coming. You can’t let your ego get to your head, Rhysie,” Jack crooned. Rhys scowled and pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance. They arrived at the elevator. 

\----------

Rhys stood quietly beside Jack, hands clasped in front of him. A heavy silence hung over the two of them. Rhys could feel the tension. He debated whether to speak or not. He decided to wait until they arrived at the office. Jack swept out of the elevator, leaving Rhys in the dust. He halted in front of his office doors, Rhys behind him. 

He glanced over his shoulder at Rhys still following him. 

“Go to bed,” He said curtly. Rhys didn’t move. 

“Go on. Shoo, or I’ll shove a spoon in your socket,” he threatened as the doors slid open. Meg wasn’t behind her desk, she’d already gone home. 

Rhys followed Jack into the office, knowing that he was treading on a very fine line. 

“Why didn’t I get credit?” Rhys pestered. Jack ignored him. 

“I came up with the weapon didn’t I?”

Jack flopped down onto his large yellow chair and produced a bottle of scotch out of nowhere. He poured himself a glass and leaned back, taking a sip. His eyes were darkly lidded. 

“Credit schmedit. It doesn’t matter. It’s all Hyperion anyways,” he replied with a smarmy grin. 

Rhys frowned. He wanted his rightful credit.

He stepped forwards, knowing full well what dangerous line he walked. At this point, he didn’t really care. 

“Jack, I won’t work for you if you steal my work. I worked really hard on those blueprints and I want my recognition,” he said. He cringed internally. That came out a lot more demanding than intended. On his toes, he watched Jack’s expression. Jack set down his glass and stood. He gave Rhys a once-over before dissolving into chuckles. 

He’d never had someone dare speak to him like this before. 

“Y’know maybe just for the fact you’re a massive bitch, I will.”

Rhys’s eyes narrowed. 

“You’re in big boy territory now, sugar! Nothing's fair in a world like this, I mean–how do you think I ended up as CEO? I didn’t sit tight like a sissy and whine about–_oh boo hoo. I didn’t get my name mentioned for one project, now I'm gonna bitch about it waahhhh, _” Jack mimicked in a high pitched voice, sniffing. 

Rhys clenched his jaw. He didn’t care. Look, all he wanted was just a smidgeon of recognition for one prototype. Was that seriously so hard?

“You know what? You are just an asshole, who has so much power he can’t see what’s right in front of him!” Rhys retorted. In hindsight, that remark may not have been the smartest choice. 

Faster than the blink of an eye, Jack had a gun put against his forehead. His demeanor had shifted in less than a second. He was glowering at Rhys again. Rhys gulped. 

“It’s a damn miracle you’re still alive, you know that right, baby?” Jack said, a dangerous grin creeping across his expression. It was a very intimidating look. Rhys was dead silent. 

“I don’t know why I let you run your mouth to me like this but once I figure it out, I’ll have you skinned and turned into a pare of fucking shoes, you,” Jack growled in a low voice. 

Rhys was suddenly very aware of who he was speaking to. This was dangerous, really dangerous. The ice-cold tip of the gun pressed against his head reminded him of that. 

But Jack previously said that he had no intentions of killing Rhys. This was just a scare tactic wasn’t it? Jack just wanted Rhys to leave. 

Rhys sighed, and stuffed his hands into his pockets. He blatantly ignored the gun against his forehead and raised a cybernetic arm. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow, goodnight, Jack.”

He stepped away from the gun and turned around. He strolled towards the exist. Behind him, Jack lowered his weapon. 

“‘Night, princess.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I wrote jack a bit more assholish?? Idk, ill see how that works out


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I may not show it, but that trauma that should be healed by now really be givin me brain damage"  
-Rhys, probably

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess what I did? I ERASED THE ENTIRE PLOT PLAN. 10 PAGES OF DETAILED PLOT NOTES on accident by my own hand. So I spent four hours until 3am on a Monday night REWRITING ALL OF THEM. I might have forgotten some small details, but I also added some extra scenes with angel bc i love her a lot. This chapter was supposed to come out Monday but since I had to rewrite the entire fuckin plot uhhh here we are.

Jack was in a considerably better mood the next day. He happily accepted his coffee from Rhys. He made no small talk about their previous heated interaction regarding credit, from the night before. Rhys was grateful for that. He went to work down at his department and Jack up in his office. 

At lunch, Vaughn asked where Rhys had been the previous night since he'd come home much later than usual. Rhys just explained that he hadn’t felt well and had gone to the sick bay. Vaughn accepted this as truth and went on happily munching his sandwich. Yvette complained about her designs being scrapped. Vaughn complained about having to do extra math now that he was a higher-up. And Rhys? Rhys was content. 

\----------

That evening, Rhys trudged up to Jack’s place. He said hello to Meg and sauntered into the room. Jack was sipping a drink and kicking back as he lazily read through the pile of papers on his desk. He tossed a couple aside. 

His office was really beginning to get cluttered. The papers had been piling on the last week or two. The whole area around his desk was smothered in a sea of cast aside documents. 

Rhys settled down in the usual chair and Jack offered him a bottle of alcohol. 

“Sorry, I don’t drink,” Rhys declined politely. Jack shrugged and poured himself another shot. 

“Cheers. More for me.”

Rhys studied him out of concern. Jack’s hair was more frazzled than usual. He looked weary, his eyes sunken behind the mask. A gaunt shadow cast over his features. Rhys took an educated guess as to what was wrong. 

“When was the last time you slept?” Rhys asked, concern creeping into his voice. Jack looked up from the papers he was shuffling. 

“Thats low coming from someone who looks worse, princess. You’re rude.”

“Answer me.”

Jack squinted at him. Rhys bit his cheek, that sounded rather demanding...didn’t it. Jack was quiet for a few seconds, as if to say: _ “Seriously? You’re gonna use that tone with me?” _

Finally, Jack opened his mouth to give a response, 

“Being the CEO is work. I got too much stuff to do to worry about sleep.”

Jack put the entire bottle to his lips and was about to take a hearty swig. 

“Jack.”

He paused.

“What?”

Rhys snatched the scotch bottle right out of his hands. 

For a split second, astonishment flickered across his features. Then he scowled at Rhys. A murdery expression flickered over his mask. His eyes gave away the conflict inside him. Should he shoot Rhys for this? At the moment, Jack was deciding whether that would be beneficial in the long run. Squinting his eyes at Rhys, he glared at him for a good long while.

“Two days ago,” he finally grunted. 

Rhys’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. 

“No wonder you’re so irritable! Jesus, Jack!”

Jack snatched the scotch back from Rhys’s metal hand. 

“Mind your own damn business,” he growled. 

“I’m f-f-fine,” he yawned suddenly. He shook his head to clear it. 

Rhys sighed. There was no chance Jack would listen to him and go to bed early but he tried nevertheless. Alas, his best attempt was curtly declined.

All his concerned suggestion got in response was a refusal of,

“Fuck off Mr. Robot.”

Leaning back and kicking up his feet, Jack grinned. He changed the subject.

“Speaking of minding your own business, I only kinda got your backstory. All I know is that you’re Pandoran.”

He gestured to Rhys’s arm. 

“Tell me more about what happened durin’ that raid by the psychos.”

Rhys frowned. 

“Why do you want to know?” 

“No reason. Just curious,” Jack shrugged innocently. Rhys blinked a couple times, wondering where to start. It had been years since then, but the trauma still clung to him like a parasite. 

In the past couple years, a lot of that trauma had finally lessened. It took Rhys seven years. Seven _very_ long years of suffering and struggling against severe anxiety. He won his struggle somewhere around when he was twenty two. But anxiety is never really gone. Wisps of the disease still haunted him in the present day. 

Rhys thought back for a moment, picking and choosing which memories would be fine to tell Jack, and which ones would be too hard to talk about. He repressed a chill, blocking out the worst details from his mind. 

He rubbed the back of his neck. 

“Um...well let’s see. I don’t remember the date but I was 15. I lived in a small town on the outskirts of the Dust with my sisters. I had one older sister and the rest were all younger,” Rhys described the setting. 

“Our town was rather poor. We depended on the Crimson Raiders to defend us from skags and bandits.”

Jack sat forwards in interest at Rhys’s mention of the Raiders. 

“For about a month I think...The psychos had been lessening attacks. So naturally, the Crimson Raiders decided there was no need for an extra guard since the psychos seemingly lost interest in our town by the end of the month. Well, the night after Raiders left, the psychos came back,” Rhys explained, his voice suddenly growing dry. He chewed his lip. 

“They….they uh….killed. Everyone.”

Rhys rubbed his hands together nervously. 

“Took the kids from the whole town, including my sisters. They were–” Rhys’s voice faltered. He blinked furiously and drily coughed, trying to force down the bile choking up his throat. 

“Excessively violent with them. Thats-That’s putting it lightly,” Rhys chuckled humorlessly. 

“They tried to take me too. Tore off my arm. Luckily, it was just the arm. Other kids weren’t as fortunate as me or my younger sister. My little sister Gaige, she was six at the time. I had to watch her arm be completely dismembered right in front of me. Our mother was able to get us both out and away from the massacre, but Gaige couldn’t keep up. I’m not sure what happened to her, but the last I saw was her falling flat under a group of those horrible things,” Rhys spat out hoarsely. 

“Mom took us to a safe place. Bandaged me up, found a couple hypos. Shuttled us up to Helios to see what could be done about me,” he explained, voice lightening. He’d gotten through the worst of the story. 

“I was pretty much a goner. I was severely injured. The hypos had helped but they weren’t nearly enough so the doctors decided to try the arm and ECHOeye implants as a last resort. And now...here I am today,” Rhys spread his arms, clicking his cybernetic fingers together. Jack was quiet for a moment, absorbing the information. 

“Alright...well...that was…an experience. Uh, I pity you,” Jack began slowly. He appeared to struggle with expressing any sort of sympathy or empathy. Rhys rolled his eyes. It wasn’t much of a better response in comparison to the first time Jack listened to his backstory. But, it was a very, very slight minuscule improvement. At least Jack put in...5% effort for even trying to make Rhys feel better. 

“You’re supposed to say, ‘I’m sorry that happened to you.’ Pro tip for next time,” Rhys advised sincerely. 

“Whatever. Cool. Pretend I said what you just said,” Jack shot him a grin. Rhys rubbed the bridge of his nose. Jack was an utterly hopeless case. 

“Okay! So I take it you’re not a huge fan of Pandora?” Jack clarified, shooting him a pair of finger guns. His eyebrows were raised. Rhys nodded, clearing his throat. 

“Great!” Jack clapped his hands together. Then he winced. Rhys looked confused. 

“Nevermind. Forget I said anything. Kinda surprised you'd tell me that stuff, it seems like a touchy subject,” Jack remarked lightly, taking another sip of scotch. 

Rhys suddenly felt a strange overwhelming sense of stability sitting in his chair, in Jack’s office. The room was warm and comfortable. Jack was rather mellow this evening. Rhys had to admit, he appreciated Jack didn’t go all pity mode. Sometimes, Rhys didn’t want nor need pity. 

Being in the office, in the moment, Rhys felt an odd sense of calm. He gazed off into the space just above Jack’s left shoulder, lost in thought. He held that position for a few moments until Jack waved at him. 

“Hello, Earth to Rhys?”

Rhys snapped back to reality, shoving the pile of thoughts away. He pushed out his chair and stood. Exhaustion crashed over him in a wave. Jack looked up at him. 

“What are you doin’?”

“Uh...It’s getting late, I’m really tired. I’m headed home,” Rhys explained, leaning to left in order to stretch out his leg. Jack shrugged. 

“Alright, see ya in the morning bright and early.”

Rhys turned and hopped down the steps. He was about halfway to the door when he paused in his tracks, and pivoted back towards Jack.

“Hey, Jack?”

“Hm?”

“Get some sleep.”

“Hey, Rhysie? Get out of my office.”

Rhys sighed. Well, at least Jack had heard him. Exiting the room, he said goodnight to Meg on the way past and quickly made his way to the elevator. He yawned, rubbing his eyes as he waited for the elevator to drop to his floor. He needed a good night’s sleep. Especially after opening up about trauma. 

Was Rhys an idiot? Perhaps. Jack now knew some very private details to Rhys’s life. Thinking about it in hindsight, telling Jack may not have been a good idea. He was the CEO, he had enormous amounts of power over everyone. Rhys just handed him even more firepower. This firepower, however, could be used even worse on Rhys. 

So why did he do it? Why did Rhys tell him? Deep down, Rhys knew the answer. He trusted Jack. Jack was unpredictable. Everything was a game to him. And trust? Trusting Jack was the most dangerous game of them all. 

\----------

Rhys hurried up to Jack’s office and handed him his normal daily coffee. He was in a chipper mood. Rhys observed that the circles under his eyes had lightened greatly. Huh. It seemed Jack _ had _heeded his advice and caught up on some sleep.

“Any special reports that need delivery this morning?” Rhys asked, glancing around at the sea of papers under his feet. Jack shook his head. 

“Naw, you’ve got no work reports for me today. I want you well rested for tomorrow ‘cause I don’t want to hear any whining about sleep!”

Rhys scrunched up his face in confusion. He was pretty sure he didn’t have anything major going on the next day. He thought for a moment. Yeah, yeah nope. Nothing. 

“I’m not sure what you mean,” Rhys admitted, confusedly. Jack clapped his hands together. 

“I want you to accompany me on a special mission down to Pandora!”

Rhys scowled putting two and two together. 

“Is this the reason why you asked about my past last night?”

“No! Yes! Absolutely! You don’t have trauma from the _ whole _ planet, do you?” Jack asked, narrowing his eyes and inspecting the other man. 

“Uh...no,” Rhys replied slowly. 

“Nice! You’re coming with me to a little loader bot mod manufacturing place. I figured I’d pop in. Give the scientists down there a good scare,” Jack laughed. 

“I need to make sure everything’s running smoothly. You’re coming with me,” he stated simply. 

Rhys could hardly believe this. Okay, Pandora may be a little scary but that was alright. Rhys was a big man now, he could handle a little homeward travel. Especially if Jack was there.

Suddenly, the facts of the situation hit him. Oh shit, he was accompanying the CEO to Pandora on what sounded like a secretive trip. Rhys felt excitement course through his veins. 

“You trust me enough for this?” He asked Jack. 

“Well if it turns out I can’t trust ya I’ll leave you hog tied in the Highlands and let the stalkers rip out your innards!” Jack grinned merrily. 

Rhys immediately paled. He forced out a nod. 

“Uh–okay. That's reasonable I guess. And why exactly do you want me to go with you?”

“I need a human shield,” Jack said, straight faced. Rhys couldn’t tell if he was joking or not. Rhys must have looked mildly concerned because Jack snorted. 

“I'm kidding. I need you to hold onto some stats while we’re there. Also, some company on a shithole planet like Pandora is better than none,” Jack admitted. Rhys kept on nodding. He forced his fears to stay down. 

“Alright, I guess. What time are we leaving?”

“Tomorrow morning, as soon as you get up here to my office. We’ll be gone for the day,” Jack answered. Rhys tapped his chin thoughtfully. He’d have to make up an excuse for his absence to Yvette and Vaughn. 

“What should I tell my friends?” He asked. 

“Tell em you need a tune up on your arm or something. You’re smart, you’ll figure something out in that pretty little head of yours,” Jack waved a hand. Rhys self-consciously raised a hand to his ECHOeye port. Oh jeez, he had a lot of conflicting emotions about this that he needed to sort out. Glancing at Jack he chewed his lip. He had to sort out these emotions by himself and not with an overbearing presence in the room. 

“Henderson will be asking where I am, I’d better be getting to work,” Rhys noted, getting to his feet. Jack was already busy scribbling across paper. 

“See you tonight,” Rhys waved, hopping off the platform. 

“See ya!”

\-----------

Yvette wasn’t at lunch that day. Rhys slid onto a chair opposite Vaughn. He was munching on his usual sandwich. 

“Is Yvette sick?” Rhys asked him. Rhys hadn’t heard from her. Vaughn nodded. 

“Thas' what she told me,” he said through a mouthful of sandwich. Huh. Yvette was never sick. Maybe she was just finishing up some extra work or something. 

“Well, I won't be around tomorrow. I have surgery,” Rhys dropped onto Vaughn casually. He frowned. 

“What?”

“My arm, it needs a repair. A couple of my joints are malfunctioning,” Rhys remarked nonchalantly, raising it up. He flopped around his metal joints in a crazed manner, to solidify his point. 

“How long are you going to be out?” Vaughn asked, eyes glued to Rhys’s popping fingers. 

“Just a day,” Rhys answered, putting his arm away. 

“Surgery is tomorrow morning. I should be back by tomorrow night.”

Vaughn stirred his drink. 

“I’m going out on a date tomorrow night. I won’t be back until much later, so you’ll have the place to yourself to rest,” he explained, pleasantly. 

“You have a date?!” Rhys exclaimed in surprise. Vaughn nodded proudly. He pushed up his glasses. 

“Yes. Her name is Haley. We’re going to the restaurant on the 10th floor,” Vaughn satisfactorily smiled. Rhys reached over and smacked him on the shoulder. 

“Congratulations, man! I hope that works out!” He exclaimed, excited for his friend. Vaughn blushed. 

“Me too!”

Vaughn set his drink down and pointed at Rhys’s chest.

“What about you? You haven’t dated anyone in years,” he remarked. Rhys shook his head. 

“Yeah ...dating isn’t really my area. There are a couple of nice girls in my department and there's a guy that sits a few seats down from me that’s pretty, but I’m not really...into anyone at the moment,” Rhys admitted. He didn’t have time for anything like a relationship. Especially now that he was working as Handsome Jack’s PA. 

Jack’s face floated across his mind. Hmm...yeah Jack was nice. Definitely off limits. Rhys scrunched up his mouth and made a face. _ Definitely _off limits. 

Vaughn shrugged. 

“Well, if you ever want to try it again, let me know. I can help you out. The secret is this body, everyone loves my abs,” he grinned. Rhys snorted.

“Okay, nerd.”

“Hey!” Vaughn protested. 

Rhys laughed lightheartedly and stood, getting ready to clear his plate. 

“Yo! Movie night tonight still?” Vaughn asked, finishing up his drink. Rhys beamed. 

“Yep! I’ll text Yvette and invite her if she’s up for it too,” he replied. Vaughn waved. 

“Sounds good bro, see you tonight!”

\------––––

Unfortunately, Yvette couldn’t make it, so Rhys enjoyed a rather pleasant evening with his roommate after dropping off papers to Jack. Vaughn made popcorn and they watched some old movies together. Rhys could barely pay attention, his mind was preoccupied with the thought of visiting Pandora. Rhys could hardly believe that after all these years he was going back to that forsaken planet. As Handsome Jack’s personal assistant nonetheless. 

The TV turned into background noise and Vaughn eventually fell dead asleep on the couch. At around ten, Rhys quietly retreated to his bedroom where he promptly crashed onto his bed. Thoughts of Pandora and Handsome Jack swirled in his mind and were his final thoughts before he conked out. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapters take a little longer to come out since starting from Chapter 13 the chapters get to be 4-6000 words instead of 2000.


	11. Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 1/2 cool and epic trips to pandora

Rhys met Jack in the office. 

“Ready to go, cupcake?”

“Never been readier,” Rhys replied, immediately cringing inwardly at his response. Not cool Rhys, not cool. 

The two of them strolled down to the shuttle port. Heads turned their way as they strolled past faces. A lot of awe. Some fear. People were quick to get out of their way. Rhys caught a man staring at him. He gave an awkward, friendly grin and the man paled, turning away. 

Rhys frowned. Jack just patted him on the shoulder. 

“Look at that, they love you already,” he grinned. Rhys brushed off his hand. He was pretty sure that was anything except love, but he decided not to reply. 

Jack simply made friendly banter to Rhys their whole way down, remarking on different departments and people. He yelled at a couple employees once or twice for getting in their way. 

Rhys wasn’t quite comfortable with all the eyes on him but he didn’t hate it either. 

The two of them halted at the bay doors. They were massive, stretching high above their heads. At this hour in the morning, commuters were scarce. There was no one at this gate in the moment. A small booth with a control panel inside was stationed to the left. The employee stationed inside lazily scrolled through his ECHOpad.

“IDs please?” He held out a palm and didn’t bother to look up. 

“Handsome Jack,” Jack crossed his arms, annoyance flickering across his mask. The employee’s head jerked up at the sound of his voice and promptly paled. He scrambled upright. 

“M-My apologies, sir! Please forgive me, I didn’t realize it was you,” he stammered out quickly. The massive bay doors whooshed open with a crash. Jack scowled at the timid worker.

“I’m going to have you airloc-”

“Hey, we should get moving,” Rhys chimed in, casting the employee a side eye. He was white as a sheet. Rhys had just spared the poor kid from Handsome Jack’s wrath. Jack whirled around to Rhys. 

“Shut up, you. These are my employees, I get I kill them off,” he growled. 

“That doesn’t mean you should,” Rhys interjected. 

“Oh fuck off.”

Jack huffed irritably and stalked past him. Rhys hurried to catch up leaving the poor terrified kid in the dust.

Jack halted and Rhys caught up, nearly running into his back. Jack spread a hand to the side, gesturing to the hangar before them and looked back at Rhys. 

“Welcome to the shuttle bay.”

\----------

It was pretty much an enormous hangar. There were five equal stations with five shuttle spots. Only four were available. One was missing. Few shuttle staff bustled about and even fewer commuting employees. Rhys watched as several lights suddenly lit up. An announcement sounded. 

“Shuttle two is landing.”

He and Jack were a good distance away from the empty landing pad. Rhys watched as massive bay doors opened, leading out into space. He wondered how that worked. How was such a massive opening into space possible on Helios? Shouldn't the whole structure destabilize and be sucked into the blackness?

Rhys shook his head and tried not to overthink it. He watched a massive yellow rectangular car from the outside slide into slot two. Machinery whirred and gears turned. The doors closed quickly behind it. 

The shuttle doors opened and out came a group of people. Hyperion Helios employees back from a trip to Pandora. 

Rhys studied the vehicles. Were they really safe? He hadn’t been off Helios in years and had never used the transport. He clacked his metallic fingers together nervously. Jack patted him on the back. 

“You’ll hate this if you hate speeds. Wooo baby it’s like trillions of light years an hour! Now come on!” he pushed a reluctant Rhys forwards and the two of them approached the nearest shuttle. 

A couple shuttle staff averted their gaze in respect towards Jack. 

Jack shooed them away at their approach. As they neared, the doors slid open automatically, revealing a small interior lined with a row of seats accompanied with minimal safety straps. Rhys frowned. Was this really safe?

“Is this...actually safe?” Rhys blurted out. What a stupid question. 

“Probably not but I try not to overthink it!” Jack grinned in reply. 

“Hop in, lets go. We have a schedule to keep up!” he insisted, pushing an ever reluctant Rhys in front of him. Rhys stepped inside and gingerly sat in a seat. He was not looking forward to being hurled at Pandora’s surface at the speed of light in nothing but a small metal box but how else were they supposed to get there? 

Jack jumped in beside him, sitting next to him and buckling his own straps in. He raised his hands as the doors slid shut. 

The holographic control system lit up at his fingertips. A grin spread across Jack’s face. Rhys gripped the armrests of the chair with white knuckles. 

“Ready for takeoff.”

\----------

Despite an extraordinarily smooth landing, Rhys had very much not enjoyed his first flight off of Helios. His still stomach lurched unpleasantly hours after the short trip. Jack thought it was hilarious. Rhys very much did not. After arriving on Pandora, the two of them waited at the train station.

Jack informed Rhys they weren’t going far. Their stop was just one hop over in the next Hyperion town. In it laid their destination, a small manufacturing facility. 

The two of them boarded the eerily empty train and sat on a row of empty seats. Rhys turned to Jack and asked what sort of things were being built at this facility. Jack produced a clip board and a stack of papers from out of nowhere and handed them to Rhys along with a pen.

“Loader bot mods. Some of them are for making the bots withstand more power, faster shooting speed n’ other weaponry. The real prize are the AIs the scientists have been working on for the bots,” Jack informed him. 

Rhys skimmed the papers. Checklists, boxes for observations, budget, employee performance were a few of the things he found. 

“You want me to...fill this all in?” Rhys echoed hollowly. That was a lot of info. Jack shook his head. 

“Partly. You’ll fill in what I tell you,” he corrected. A little bubble of pride floated up through Rhys. Jack was entrusting him with important papers. Rhys clicked the pen in his left hand determinedly. He was filled with adversity. He would do the best damn job Jack had ever seen. 

\----------

The two arrived at the manufacturing lab. As Rhys stepped off the bullet train, he felt immense relief at standing on direct ground again. His legs wobbled slightly. Fast traveling did not sit very well with his insides. 

The building was fairly large. It sat behind a barb wire fence, set back a couple hundred feet from the train tracks. The path to the front door was through an archway in the fencing. However, on the other side it was patrolled and well guarded by an assortment of robots and guards. 

Rhys felt slightly intimidated by the bots. They towered a good few feet over him. Their bright red lights fixated on him like a massive, angry glowing eye. Their joints creaked when they moved. They did not look friendly. 

The guards sprang up at the two’s approach, guns raised. As they neared, they faltered. 

“Good morning fellas! Handsome Jack here you can bow if you like, yadda yadda. Put the guns down no need for formalities,” Jack babbled, spreading his arms. Rhys cowered behind him, eyeing the guard’s trained rifles nervously. 

“This is my assistant. He’s terrified of your guns, don’t mind him,” Jack gestured to Rhys, explaining his company. Rhys blushed furiously. He was not _ afraid. _Merely cautious and wary like a sensible person.

A guard stepped forwards. 

“Yes, sir. Right this way please,” she beckoned. Jack and Rhys trailed after her. She led them around to the side of the building to a single door with a bright red light fixed over it. Several cameras were trained at different angles. Jack looked up into one and grinned like a maniac.

A buzzer sounded and a clicking noise was heard as the door unlocked. Jack pushed his way inside, Rhys in tow. 

Rhys couldn’t keep his mouth shut. He sucked in. 

“Woah.”

Was all he could muster at the sight before them. 

They currently stood on a metal platform high above the work below them. The whole place had a vague red glow. Below them were dozens of people in white lab coats. They milled about in a couple different sections in the facility. Rhys could pick out a computer lab, a testing lab, and a storage section filled with crates and boxes of all different sizes. A few people were currently unloading items. 

He could also make out a hallway leading down further into places obscured from sight. 

Jack chuckled. 

“Impressive, right?”

“Yeah.”

“This is one of the smaller facilities. You should see the bigger ones-Come on Rhysie! Let’s get moving, I have some nerds to scare the shit out of.”

\----------

The two descended down a flight of stairs onto the bottom floor. They stood in the unloading zone. Crates were being unpacked by workers and several scientists bustled about. 

“Hey!” Jack yelled. The people paused. Rhys felt all eyes turn towards them. 

“Where’s the guy in charge of this place? Uh...Tailson! Where’s Tailson?” Jack yelled. Rhys looked around. The people were frozen. Wide-eyed expressions revealed surprise and fear at Jack’s sudden arrival.

“Handsome Jack! Sir! W-We weren’t expecting you!” A short man in a lab coat stepped out from behind a crate. Jack squinted his eyes. 

“Tailson! Just the man. I want this months reports, now,” Jack ordered. Tailson nodded frantically. 

“Yessir! Right this way,” he turned and strode towards the nearest doorway. Rhys and Jack followed him. It lead to the computer lab. 

“We weren’t expecting you….” Tailson began. 

“There’s nothing wrong...is there sir?” He asked worriedly. 

Jack laughed. 

“No no! Of course not! If there was, I would have fired a moonshot onto this shithole sooner!” Jack reassured the scientist. He looked far from reassured. 

“R-Right. Here are the statistics, sir,” Tailson thrust out a couple of papers. Jack took them and promptly shoved them at Rhys. 

“Take note.”

“Now show me where you make the sauce,” Jack ordered. Tailson looked confused. Jack scowled. 

“The mods, princess, the mods. Show them to me. I want to make sure you’re makin’ them right.”

Tailson gulped and nodded. 

“Right this way sirs.”

As the three of them walked, Jack would occasionally lean over to Rhys and make a rather amusing, scathing, witty remark. 

“Hmm..not enough posters of me here...write that down.”

Was among others. Rhys was slowly but surely filling up the blank spaces on his clipboard. 

Tailson led them to a decently sized room. People worked at tables, sparks flying from tools Rhys had never seen before. 

“This is where the prototypes are made, sir,” Tailson spread his arm wide. Jack whipped out his pistol and fired several shots into the ceiling. Rhys jumped. Tailson cowered in fear. The people at their workbenches stopped abruptly to stare at the CEO. Fear filled the room at Jack’s presence. 

“Everyone get your asses out! Handsome Jack has arrived! Get out!” Jack shouted. In no time, the room was empty. Jack smirked at his own handiwork and pocketed his pistol. Rhys was mildly concerned. 

“-and that’s how you do shit in Jack-town, babey,” he grinned at Rhys. Rhys mustered up a smile and a thumbs up. Jack accepted the gesture and turned back around to Tailson. 

“You can leave us now. I’ll letcha live if the work here is good. For now, get outta my sight,” Jack commanded. Tailson turned tail and fled. Jack straightened up, frowning. 

“Weird man. He’s short. I don’t like short people. They remind me too much of those little psycho midgets,” Jack shivered. He then turned to Rhys. 

“I’ll take the clipboard now.”

Rhys handed it over. Jack tucked it under his vest then strutted over and inspected a couple of the work stations. He paused at one. 

“Hey, come here. I want your opinion,” he beckoned. Rhys ambled over to see what Jack was talking about. It was one of the prototypes. A finished one. Jack held it up to the light, squinting. Rhys assumed he was making some sort of complex calculations about the device, judging by his facial expressions. He squinted at it for a good solid minute before opening his mouth to make a wise Jack judgement.

“Imma be honest, Rhysie. I have no idea how these mods function. You’re an engineer, you tell me how it w-”

“I’ll take a look,” Rhys sighed. Jack handed it to him. 

It appeared to be a large computer chip. It fit snugly in the palm of Rhys’s hand. Rectangular in shape, divets and grooves in the sides. Little wires poking out here and there. A couple spots glowed. 

Rhys took a good glance at the blueprints laying on the workbench. He studied the mod in his hand. He traced a couple of spots on the mod to the blueprints, deep in thought. 

“Yeah, these are looking pretty good I’d say. From what I can tell it should function properly,” Rhys remarked. He turned around to face Jack. 

“Although, if you’d left one of the engineers in here they could’ve probably told you m-”

“Yeah yeah I know, shut up. I’ll get Tailson t-”

Jack was rudely interrupted by the shrill shriek of the facility alarm. Rhys jumped, grabbing Jack’s arm in fear on instinct.

“What the hell is going on?” He yelped. His heart thudded against his ribcage as the flashing emergency lights illuminated the room in a ruby glow. Jack shook him off and looked towards the doorway.

Screams, gunshots and echoing bangs could be heard up the hallway. Jack cursed. 

“I don’t know, sounds like a whole lotta dying. Some psychos probably broke i-”

“Handsome Jack! S-Sir!”

Tailson burst into the room, out of breath. A bloodstain was blossoming through the stomach of his white lab coat. He choked and spluttered out blood. 

“We’re under attack! It’s th-” His body hit the floor with a thud. Rhys’s stomach churned at the sight. In a flash, both of Jack’s pistols spun into his grip.

“Come on, let’s get outta h-” in a flash Jack fired a bullet from his gun. Rhys covered his ears. Jack’s movement was almost too fast for Rhys to follow. An unfamiliar body fell over Tailson’s body in the doorway. An SMG clattered out of the assailant’s dead grip. A bullet was fired straight through his skull. Jack grinned menacingly. 

“Where there's one of these guys, there's gotta be the whole pack!” He snarled. Rhys drew his pistol. Jack strode forwards and hoisted up the SMG. He took aim and unloaded the trigger on the corpse for good measure. Bullets shredded through the lifeless muscles. Bloodied bits of flesh and shards of bone splattered across the room. 

Jack was delighted with his own actions.

Rhys cringed at the sight. He tried to focus on the armor rather than the bloody body chunks. The symbol on the helmet seemed oddly familiar. He peered at it...what was it? It was on the tip of his tongue but he just couldn’t remember. Jack whirled around, guns in hand. A twisted, ugly grin spread across his face. 

“Crimson Raiders.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am working on chapter 20 as I publish this wooh yeah woooo


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I cannot write action scenes for the life of me"  
-solius, while editing this chapter

Jack grabbed Rhys’s arm and yanked him out of his petrified, frozen state. 

“Move it! You’re gonna be a friggin' bloodstain if aren’t fast enough!” 

Everything rushed in a blur. Rhys could barely feel his own feet as the two of them made a dash down the hallway. There were more bangs and clamor. The commotion was growing closer. 

The two found themselves amongst short stacks of crates back near the entrance of the main section on the facility. Jack yanked Rhys down behind a cluster of them. Scientists rushed past them, guns in hand. A few others ran for cover. Screams rang out and Rhys watched as bodies fell past them.

The Crimson Raiders thundered into the main section of the facility. 

Rhys’s heart was racing, adrenaline pumping steadily through his veins. He could hear his own heartbeat. Panic flooded through him, what were they going to do? What was happening? 

“What the hell is going on?” He cried out desperately, glancing over at Jack for an answer. Jack leaned out from behind the crate and took a few blind shots with one of his numerous pistols. He pulled back and looked over at Rhys with a strangely calm expression for someone with a blood smear splattered over their mask. 

Rhys on the other hand, was currently white faced and frozen in fear, he had never been in real combat before. 

Rhys locked eyes with Jack. 

“We need to find the nearest exit, it’s not safe here,” he stated obviously. Sure, he had never been in real combat before but his mind wasn’t completely jammed. He still had a couple of wits about him. Jack frowned. 

“Nah, we need to active defenses to kill everyone so the Raiders don't get the prototypes in here.”

“No! We have to do it my way! We need to get out of here–who even are these guys?”

“I told you, Crimson Raiders. Now if you excuse me, I’m gonna try and break my headshot kill count record,” Jack hissed furiously, aiming his pistol out from behind the crate. 

The gears in Rhys’s mind turned. Crimson Raiders. Crimson Raiders. They may not have been the exact faces of people he knew, but they _were_ the group that abandoned his small defenseless town so many years ago. 

Amidst the frozen fear, hot anger slowly blossomed in his chest. Something in his tone shifted. He physically felt different, it was like a clean cut and shift in his emotion. 

“So, you’re going to fight them?” He muttered out loud. Jack gave him a strange expression. 

“Yeah?”

“Well count me in then, I guess.”

Rhys spun the cartridge full of ammo on his pistol. What would it be today? 

The cartridge landed on explosive. He cracked Jack a grin.

“Let’s do it your way,” he decided. Jack blinked at Rhys’s newfound attitude. Then he shrugged. 

Rhys peered around the corner of his cover, ECHOeye flickering to life. His eye’s aiming assistant booted up. The outline of a blue square appeared in his vision. Several dots and lines marked up his eye’s scope. Pistol in hand, he took careful aim and squeezed the trigger. Explosions and screams blended together as they hit true. 

A small part of Rhys wanted to curl up into the fetal position and sob. What was he doing? He was hurting people, he was fighting, he was-urggg no. This was a battle. He was fighting for his life. _ These people knew the danger they’d be in charging in here. It’s all just casualties of war. Besides, they left you for dead years ago, isn’t it time to repay the favor? _

As Rhys struggled with his morals, Jack whistled. 

“That’s pretty hot!” He winked at Rhys, who was too busy wrestling with his morals and trying to stay alive in the onslaught of bullets, to notice. 

Rhys fired another round of explosives and pulled back, hugging the gun to his chest. He winced, trying to block out the screams that followed his actions. _ What am I doing? What am I doing? This isn’t- _

“Explosives! That’s it! I’m a genius! Let’s blow this shithole,” Jack proclaimed, a little too excitedly for Rhys’s taste. 

“H-how are we going to do that?” Rhys panted. His hair was completely disheveled. Gunpowder and blood was stained his clothes. The taste of fire hit the roof of his mouth and he retched. 

_ Focus. Concentrate, Rhys. Everything will be fine. You’ll get out of here. _

In order for his ECHOeye to function properly and help his aim, he needed a clear head. He exhaled deeply, pushing his clouded thoughts and judgement away. 

“Hell if I know–Let’s just–” Jacks face suddenly lit up with an idea. Between his maniacal grin and blood smeared across his face, his expression was more than unnerving. 

“Defenses! The loader bot hangar–”

“We’ll get the bots activated and try out some of the new mods!” Rhys interjected with a grin, finishing Jack’s sentence for him. Jack blinked.

“Don't interrupt me. But yeah, can you use your ECHOeye to find us a path there?” He shouted over the sound of popping bullets. 

Rhys shot him a thumbs up.

Rhys took a deep breath. His hands shook. Jack was relying on him now, he couldn’t let his boss down. The blue screens flickered to life in his vision. His ECHOeye darted around as the map slowly began to unfold. 

Jack was staring at him work with a sort of light in his eyes. Then he opened his mouth,

“Can you be any faster?”

“Give me a second,” Rhys shouted back. Just a couple more seconds for the pathway to load. Come on..come on! He concentrated, studying the holographic map in his vision. He looked up. A blue path lit up across the floor of the warehouse. It snaked between crates and obstacles all the way across to the other side. It disappeared down a hallway. Rhys blinked and the pathway disappeared. 

“Got it. It’s down that way, we gotta go-” Rhys sprang up, ready to run but Jack grabbed the back of his collar and yanked him back down. Rhys spluttered in surprise. 

“Hold on, you’re gonna get killed charging up like that. Create a diversion first…” Jack was staring pointedly at the pistol in Rhys’s hands. Rhys blinked slowly and glanced down at the gun in his hands. Right. 

He fired a couple more explosive shots in the distance. The yelling increased to a greater volume. Smoke covered the room in a light haze. Jack was laughing.

Now was the time, they had to move. 

Summoning the last of his willpower, Rhys sprang to his feet and dashed across the room, Jack in tow. He slid behind a different set of crates just as a shot whizzed past his head. His heart pounded and he was growing dizzy. He looked over wide-eyed at Jack. 

“I-I don’t think I can do this,” his chest heaved. His breath was coming out in short rapid gasps. Ice cold panic blossomed from his chest. Jack’s fingers curled around the flesh of his forearm. He jerked his head up. Rhys tried to avoid Jack’s steady gaze but to no avail. 

“Get yourself in order. You’ll be dead if you don’t,” Jack hissed. Rhys couldn’t form words, he just stared at Jack in silence with a wide-eyed fearful gaze.

Blood was splattered on Jack’s coat and across his mask. His eyes were wide, and crazed, alight with the pleasantries of bloodshed. A small grin was tugging at the corners of his mouth. 

It chilled Rhys to the bone. 

Jack squeezed his arm tighter and shook him. 

“You hear me?”

“Y-Yes, sir,” Rhys stammered out. Jack’s eyes narrowed into slits. He was about to open his mouth but decided not to right at the last moment. He released his grip and pointed out around the crate. 

“The doorway is just a few feet away. Get up, we have to get to the hangar,” Jack ordered. Rhys staggered to his feet. He clenched his jaw. Wow, he really was a coward wasn’t he? Couldn’t even handle a little bit of gunfire. Rhys grit his teeth. No more playing around. This was life or death. Jack was counting on him. 

Rhys forced his feet to move. Jack pulled him along. They dove headfirst through the doorway, bullets at their backs and dashed down the hallway. 

Rhys could feel bullets whooshing past. They singed the top of his hair and the loose fabric of his shirt. Without second thought he blindly aimed his pistol behind them and pulled the trigger. In front of him, he heard the high pitched crack of Jack’s pistols fire more than once. The two of them were still alive. They were still fighting. 

Jack dragged him into another room branching off the main hall. They were safe for the time being. Rhys slammed the door shut, muffling the sounds of the fight outside. 

The pair of them breathlessly leaned against the wall. Rhys’s hands were on his knees. He keeled over, a sharp pain in his chest, winded. Jack was reloading his pistols. He had a wild grin, much contrary to Rhys’s look of terror and despair.

“Pretty fun, huh? Too bad these guys wear helmets, can’t see the looks on their faces when I-” Jack mimed pulling the trigger. 

“Boom! Headshot!” Jack threw back his head and roared with laughter. Rhys gave him a side glance. Well...at least Jack was taking this whole ordeal well. The acrid tang of smoking flesh and blood clung to the two of them. Rhys’s stomach churned, and he forced down the urge to dislodge the contents of his breakfast. 

Rhys’s ECHOeye flickered to life once more. The blue line projected onto the floor led out the door they came from, and further down the hallway. They had to keep going. They had to go back out into the bloodshed and fire. Rhys groaned. Jack looked over at him, grin still ghosting the corners of his mask. 

“Ready to go? I got the front, you watch my back, sound good?” 

No, that did not sound good. Rhys did not want to go back out into danger but all he could manage was a weak thumbs up.

\----------

The two of them made a surprisingly smooth team in the middle of combat. Rhys calmed his nerves and forced himself to concentrate on the fight. He preferred using the shock bullets, the charge jumped from person to person behind them in the enclosed hallway. He wasn’t sure how long he and Jack had been working down the hall. Long enough for his arm to grow sore. 

At last, they burst into the hangar. Inactive Loader Bots lined every inch of the place. Their usual bright glaring eyes were dark. Crates of mods were stacked in boxes. Rhys’s chest heaved. He and Jack appeared to be alone in this section of the warehouse. 

“Wh-what do we do now?” Rhys panted out, breathlessly. Jack left his side and dashed over to the nearest crate. He rifled through the contents, throwing unwanted mods to the floor. He had his back to Rhys. 

“We’re gonna want the AI mods. That’ll make them come alive and-”

“Wasn’t expecting you here, Handsome Jack!”

An unfamiliar booming voice sounded from across the other side of the warehouse. It belonged to a large statured man, clad in armor. In his hands was a massive rifle. It wasn’t aimed at Rhys. 

“Shit! Jack wat—” Rhys’s warning came a second too late. He lunged towards Jack who had barely begun to turn around when the gun went off. 

\----------

Everything moved in a blur. Rhys knocked into Jack, shoving him aside before collapsing to the ground in blinding white pain. Jack stumbled at Rhys’s sudden contact. 

“Rhys! Shit! You fucker!” Jack shouted angrily. Rhys couldn’t tell if Jack was referring to him, or the man. He tried to scrabble upright but his vision flickered dangerously and he gasped, clutching his side. Blood spilled through his fingertips and splashed all over the floor. He hissed at the burning sensation, dizziness suddenly washing over him. 

What was...what was going on? He was hurt..he was...he was shot. Rhys’s mind raced and he doubled over in pain. A piercing sound reached his hearing and his ears began to ring. 

Another crack rang out and Jack cursed. Through his pain, Rhys could see the emotions twisted into his mask. He was trying to decide whether to leave Rhys or take cover himself. 

“Leave me here I–I'll be fine,” Rhys coughed out, choosing the decision for Jack. Blood spilled through his teeth. He was most definitely not fine. Jack simply scowled, eyebrows furrowed together glaring down at him. 

“This is gonna hurt like a bitch,” he shouted at Rhys, stooping down. Something in his tone had changed. 

He stood over Rhys’s bloodied body. Rhys’s vision swayed, and Jack’s features blended together. Suddenly, he was roughly seized by his upper arms and dragged across the floor. He let out a pained yell as the hole in his side stretched in a burning pain that made his vision go white. He left a bloodied smear across the floor. 

He felt Jack hoist him upright. He was propped up against a crate behind a line of loader bots. Rhys watched Jack through his flickering vision. The most terrifying gruesome expression was twisted onto his face and he was covered in Rhys' s blood. He laid a hand on Rhys’s shoulder. 

“Stay alive for just a bit longer, I got shit to settle,” Jack snarled. He produced the SMG from earlier out of nowhere. He stood up. 

“Roland! It is a real pleasure to see you. Congratulations! You’ve pissed me off! You’re supposed to be a hero! At least that’s what they call you on Pandora. But shit, you come in here, you shoot _ my _ people and they still call _ you _ a hero?” Jack rambled, finger ghosting over the trigger of the SMG.

“You’re nothing but bandit scum.”

“This is the end, your reign of bloodshed and terror is ending _ now_,” Rhys heard the other man counter. Jack dove back behind the crate just as another one of Roland’s shots rang out. 

“You can’t hide forever!”

More shots from Roland rang out. Through Rhys's haze, he was only partly certain Jack returned the fire. Their back and forth didn't continue for long. Rhys noticed Jack's face light up with an idea. 

"Well I'm just gonna blow this idiot sky high," Jack muttered under his breath. 

Through heavy eyes, Rhys watched Jack unhook a grenade from his belt. He tossed the pin away and lobbed it over the crate and through the air. Rhys heard the explosion as Jack sprang up, finger held down on the trigger of his gun. A spray of bullets hailed from his weapon in the directions where Roland last stood. Rhys heard a body hit the floor with a thud. 

“What’s that? I can’t hear you! Didn’t expect that huh?” Jack yelled gleefully. 

“Wooh babey! Gives me a thrill every time! Oh! And don’t worry about seeing your precious Lilith again. I’ll hunt her down soon enough and you two can have a little lovey-dovey reunion in hell,” Jack gloated victoriously over Roland’s death. 

At least Jack was alive…that was all that mattered. Rhys was satisfied. He let his muscles go limp. It was too hard to try and fight it. The smoke that hung heavy in the air began to smother his senses. Coughs wracked his body and blood poured from the hole in his side. His vision was spinning, black spots spotting his sight.

“Rhys? Rhys! Hey! Answer me!” Jack seized him by the collar of his shirt. The pain crashed over Rhys’s body in a towering wave for one final time. Jack’s voice could barely be heard over the piercing ring in his ears. 

Before lurching into the dark, the last sight he got was Jack, shouting furiously at his dazed form to wake up. 


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Get shot get trust wooh yeah baby

Rhys was in a state of flickering in and out of consciousness. The pain in his side wracked up and down his body. God, it hurt so bad, he began to feel numb. His eyelids fluttered heavily. He couldn’t make out anything clearly, everything was a blur and he was seeing triple. He could barely feel Jack’s arms envelop his body. One arm was under his knees and another under his shoulders. As he felt himself being lifted into the air, his side gave one last painful twinge and his head fell limp against Jack’s shoulder.

\----------

Rhys’s vision was pitch black. He couldn't see anything. His hearing was drowned out by the sound of his own heartbeat. He was vaguely certain Jack had plugged in a mod to one of the loader bots. He remembered a robotic, toneless voice and Jack speaking. Something about getting them out of there safely. Jack should have left him there on the floor, Rhys was as good as dead now. He felt his life slowly ebbing away in an hourglass, one sand at a time. 

\----------

The next time Rhys’s botched senses return, he felt the familiar unpleasant sensation of the shuttle transport. They're hurtling through space at millions of miles an hour. Unsuccessfully, he moved to form words, but his lips were bone dry and cracked painfully. He silently tried to mouth something, anything. Blood overpowered both his sense of smell and taste. A few drops spluttered out of his mouth at his attempt to speak. He vaguely made out the shape of Jack leaning over him. A hand was placed on his forehead. 

“Go back to sleep.”

And Rhys is unconscious again. 

\----------

A tiny sharp pain in his chest jolted Rhys from his unconscious state. His eyes flew open and he gasped. He struggled upright but someone’s unmoving hand pressed against his collarbone, pinning him down. Rhys squinted, trying to make out the silhouette of the person standing over him. Jack’s familiar voice reached his ringing ears. 

“Stop fuckin squirming. It’ll mess up the needle.”

And with that Rhys was out once more. 

\-----------

Rhys woke up in darkness for a moment and instantly panicked. What was going on? What happened? Where was he? It felt like something was squeezing his chest. Automatically, he flexed his metal fingers. His arm seemed to be in order, that was good. He slowly came to, hands moving to explore his surroundings. 

The world spun into focus. He was laying on some sort of cushion. He was bare-chested save for the copious amounts of bandages pulled tight around his torso. The gauze was covered in a thin crusty layer of blood. Urggh, the stench was overpowering. 

He put his hand down, and cautiously felt around. Slowly, his eyes took in dim, purple light and he could barely make out the outline of the couch he was stationed on. The dim light was pulsing in from a massive window across the way. It was mighty similar to the one in Jack’s office. 

But it wasn't Jack’s office. The surroundings were unfamiliar, yet held a small, strange sense of familiarity. Rhys wasn’t afraid. 

For a few seconds, he stared out of the window. The stars and Pandora filled his bleary gaze below him. 

Pandora was...below him. Rhys’s mind began churning as he put two and two together. He was back on Helios. But how he was back on Helios was unclear at the moment. A dull aching throb began at the base of his neck and worked its way up into his head. His heartbeat thudded loudly. 

He strained to remember what happened, grasping at his recent memory. The Crimson Raiders…someone named Roland...Roland had shot Jack...no…Rhys had taken a bullet for Jack…

Rhys remembered vague flashes. Being pulled behind the crate, Jack’s gloating...but there wasn't much after that. 

He turned his head to the right, hoping to see dim purple outlines of the unfamiliar room he was in. Instead, he made out the outline of a chair pulled right up next to the couch he was sprawled on. Someone was in the chair. The silhouetted figure seemed awfully familiar. 

“J-?”

Rhys made an attempt to force himself upright but was met with a hot flash of pain so dreadful his vision turned white. He gasped, before his vision went dark as his eyes rolled to the back of his head and he was thrown back into unconsciousness once more. 

\----------

Rhys jolted awake and gasped. He looked up at the familiar ceiling. It was his ceiling. As the world came into focus, Rhys found himself back in his room, in his apartment, in bed. He was tucked neatly under his covers. Rhys tossed his blankets off and sat up. He let out a yelp as a throbbing pain in his side began. He looked down at the bandages around his torso and chest. They were crusty and soaking in his blood. Rhys wretched at the smell. 

He cautiously prodded his bandages and quickly withdrew his hand. That was a mistake. The wound stung like hell. 

Rhys moved the covers aside and carefully swung his feet over the side of the bed, placing them firmly on the floor. He unsteadily swayed to his feet and lurched upright. Stiffly, in soreness and pain, he wobbled over to the mirror. 

Bloodstained, was the first word to come to mind when Rhys gazed at his reflection. He barely recognized himself. His hair was completely frazzled, blood had dried throughout the locks, leaving chunks of gross, blood encrusted dreads. He had several new scratches on his arm as well as soot and somehow even more blood smeared in various places on his body. 

He cautiously stretched feeling sore. He was careful not to aggravate the wound on the side of his lower abdomen.

The bandages were pulled taught. They wrapped around his torso all the way up to his chest and over his shoulder. Leaving the mirror, Rhys stumbled to his door. His flesh hand was already on the knob when he paused. Vaughn would be home and Rhys didn’t want Vaughn to know anything about what had happened. He’d have to sneak across to the bathroom.

Quietly, Rhys turned the knob and slowly creaked open the door. Seeing the coast was clear, he made a dash for the bathroom door. It was successful. 

Using scissors in the cabinet, he carefully hacked away at the gauze encasing his body. It took a good few minutes but he finally peeled away the bloodstained mess. The crusty bandages dropped to the floor. 

Rhys could barely stand to look at himself. He almost retched at the sight. Bruises littered his body, both his arm and torso. His metal arm had a couple new scratches. When he struggled out of his pants, there were bruises on his legs too. Rhys leaned closer to the bathroom mirror and peered at the small mark on his left breast. It was a tiny hole. What the…

He poked it curiously and withdrew his hand as a red hot jolt went through his body. Suddenly, vague, hazy memories of being pinned down and a needle hovering over him in Jack’s grip coursed through his mind. Hypo needle. Those were rare. Apparently, Jack had used one on Rhys. 

Rhys scowled, the needle clearly hadn’t worked very well, he was still in excruciating pain. 

The bullet had gone cleanly through the left of his abdomen. Several stitches pulled the burned red skin together. The hole was coated in a layer of dried blood. Rhys retched, covering his mouth at the sight in disgusted horror. He took several deep breaths and forced himself not to look again. 

Instead, he turned and hobbled stiffly into the shower. 

The shower was a damn near miracle. Rhys even recognized himself again when he stepped out. His fingernails were clean again, the blood scraped out from underneath them. The bullet soot washed off his body with ease. He’d gotten most of the bloodied chunks out of his hair, but a few stubborn blocks still remained. With careful precision, he cut out the lumps with his scissors. 

Even the wound in his side was clean. It appeared to be doing much better. However, that ugly faint scent of blood and gunfire still clung to him, much to Rhys’s dissatisfaction. 

Rhys found his hair gel and promptly dumped it on his head. He quickly re-styled his hair. Looking at his reflection, he sighed. His eyes carried a lot more weight behind them than usual. What the hell had happened?

He’d been shot. That’s what. He remembered pushing Jack out of the way and then collapsing to the floor. The man...what was his name...Roland? Yeah. Rhys was pretty sure Jack shot him down afterwards. 

Who was Roland, anyways? He was apart of the Crimson Raiders, and Jack clearly knew him ...maybe he was their leader? Rhys frowned, pulling up his brief memory of the man. He’d had that stance that made him look very leader-like. Rhys shrugged. He’d have to ask Jack. 

Speaking of...Jack had saved him. Rhys remembered aggressively shouting at Jack to leave him. Jack had refused. Of course he did. Because he was stuck up idiot that refused to listen to Rhys. 

Rhys flexed his metallic fingers. Why had he saved? And...how did Jack even get him out? Did he really carry him all the way back up to Helios? Rhys bit the inside of his cheek. He was pathetic. He couldn’t do anything himself, Jack had to do all the work in saving him. Rhys scowled. Sure, he was grateful to be alive...but why? Why hadn’t Jack just left him? It would have been so much easier for him to escape by himself.

_ Don’t overthink it. He probably needs you for some higher agenda later on, that’s why. _

Yeah. That sounded about right. 

Rhys picked up his clothes from the bathroom floor and returned to his room, dressing himself for the day. 

His ECHOeye suddenly lit up in a bright blue light. Rhys swiped the notification away and picked up the ECHOpad off his desk. He had a message from Jack. Rhys’s flesh hand shook. What did Jack send him? Would Jack fire him for causing him so much trouble getting him back up to Helios? Rhys opened the message, fearing the worst. 

_ I'm givin u one day off for the hole in ur side to close. i gave u a hypo, it should be fine by tomorrow. dont bother bringing me coffee just stay home _

Rhys read the message several times over. Jack was giving him a day off. Rhys wasn’t sure if this was a good thing or a bad thing. For a moment he pondered about showing up at Jack’s office with coffee anyways, just for normalities sake and to prove he was fine, but he decided against it. Knowing Jack, that would probably just make him angry. 

Rhys clacked his metallic fingers together anxiously. He threw his spare work vest over his shoulder, putting the ECHOpad away. It was time to get some breakfast and say good morning to Vaughn. Gosh, what would he tell Vaughn?

He stepped out into the kitchen. Vaughn was toasting toast in the toaster. 

“Is there one in there for me?” Rhys yawned. Vaughn spun around. 

“Oh hey! Yeah, I made one for you,” he replied. Rhys stiffly shuffled to the fridge pulling out the juice. 

“How was your night?” Rhys asked, trying to keep the tremor out of his voice. Vaughn grinned. 

“The date went really well. We’re going to meet up again sometime. She said she really liked me,” he said excitedly. Rhys beamed. 

“I'm glad to hear it-” Rhys was in the middle of turning to get a glass when his side gave a painful twinge. He jerked back and let out a small pained noise as a stinging sensation burned into his torso. Vaughn gave him a concerned once-over. 

“You good?” 

Rhys gave a weak smile. 

“F-Fine! I-Uh-Surgery. The surgery was kind of rough,” Rhys fibbed quickly. 

“Is there anything I can do?”

“No no. I’m fine. I just can’t twist that way,” Rhys forced a pained laugh. Vaughn’s expression was one of worry. Rhys grinned awkwardly. Vaughn just stared at him. The toaster dinged. Vaughn moved. He slid a couple pieces of toast onto two plates and handed one to Rhys. 

Rhys thanked him and ravenously wolfed down his toast. He hadn’t realized how hungry he was. After drinking three glasses of juice and one of water, he sat back. Getting shot really took a toll on ones body, huh? 

“Man...uh...are you sure you’re okay?” Vaughn asked. Rhys gave a thumbs up. Vaughn sighed, getting up from the counter. 

“Alright, if you say so. I have to get to work. Just…”

Vaughn glanced at him. 

“Text me if you need anything,” he decided. Rhys nodded. 

“I will, don’t worry, bro.”

Vaughn slung his vest over his shoulder and picked up his briefcase.

“I’ll see you later, bro!” Rhys called at his retreating back.

“Take care of yourself!”

The door swung shut behind him. Rhys exhaled a breath he’d been holding. His life was a goddamn mess. 

Finishing off his third slice of toast, Rhys put his dishes in the sink and slung his vest around his shoulders, buttoning it. He planned to go to work as usual that day despite Jack’s message. He felt the need to prove he wasn't useless, or a burden to anyone. He was still functional. It was just a hole in his side, not his head. 

Besides, he needed a distraction to keep his anxiety at bay. He didn’t want to sit around doing nothing but listening to his thoughts. He needed his work. 

Rhys took one last breath and smoothed out his vest and adjusting his tie before he stepped out into the hall and made his way down to his department.

\----------

Rhys staggered into Jack’s office that evening after a long day of work. Jack had his hands folded on his desk and was watching his every move. 

“Rhysie?”

Rhys strolled over to the desk. 

“Yeah?” 

“Why are you here? Do I have to bash out your kneecaps to keep you down and resting?” Jack asked sweetly. Rhys searched the depths of his gaze. 

“Uhhh…I just stopped by to check in...and…” Rhys looked down at his hands in his lap. 

“Thank you for for bringing me back to Helios and saving my life,” he muttered, wincing. Jack grinned. 

“Well, I am a hero after all, and that is what heroes do,” Was his reply. Rhys’s expression didn’t change. Jack’s self proclaimed title just didn’t sit well with Rhys. Jack hadn’t tried to save any of the scientists in that facility, so why had he saved Rhys? 

Rhys did not ask that question. He pushed it aside. 

“Well… er...thank you...for that. Uh, if I’m allowed to ask, who was that guy who shot me? Roland?”

Jack scowled. 

“He shot _ me. _Why did you take the hit?” Jack flipped the question, crossing his arms. Rhys stuttered at a loss for words. His action had been kind of an instinctive spur of the moment thing. All he’d known was that he couldn’t stant by and watch Jack get fatally shot. 

“I-Isn’t that my job as your personal assistant? I need to keep you safe?” Rhys answered meekly. Jack shook his head. 

“Nope. But,” his face shifted to a strange expression. His gaze softened. 

“Thank you for doing that. BUT-” the piercing hardness returned to his mask and he raised a finger. 

“If you ever do that again, I’ll fucking skin you. Ya hear me?” He growled. 

Rhys could hardly believe his ears. Did Jack just thank him? His wires short-circuited. He gazed open-mouthed at Jack with a new light. 

“I hear you,” Rhys couldn’t keep the grin off his face. 

Jack crossed his arms and smiled smugly.

“Uh, back to my original question...who was that guy who shot at us? Why and how did the Raiders know we were there?” Rhys restated, leaning back in his chair. 

Jack shrugged. 

“I got no idea how the Crimson Raiders knew we were there, probably coincidence. Or a spy,” Jack’s features blackened. 

“The man’s name is Roland. Or, was Roland,” he chuckled, wicked humor in his gaze. 

“He was the commander of the Raiders. Those guys have been after me forever. Since I tried to capture his siren girlfriend, Lilith for a number of years, in fact. I needed her to power the Vault Key, but since then I’ve found another power source, so she was no longer needed,” Jack explained. 

He threw back his head and laughed. 

“Lilith’s gonna be after me for this one! Wooh! When she finds out Roland’s dead-” Jack’s chuckling ceased. 

“She’s gonna be pissed as hell. It’ll be a wonderful sight to be on the receiving end of a siren’s wrath.”

Jack locked his gaze with Rhys’s. 

“Be more careful from now on, I won’t always be around to carry you to safety,” he warned. Rhys nodded. 

“I will, don’t worry.”

Jack studied him for a moment. Rhys stared back at him, unsure of what to say. Suddenly, Jack jumped and gestured to the papers strewn about the office. 

“Right! You wanted to organize these so badly didn’t you? Now you can, to your little heart's content.”

Rhys looked around. Excitement bubbled in him. Did this mean Jack trusted him? His gaze returned to Jack. 

“You’re really letting me do that?”

“Yup. I want you working here during afternoons too. I’ll get a desk up here for you. You’ll also attend business meeting with me from now on,” Jack proclaimed, spreading his hands. 

Rhys nearly leapt out of his chair. Holy shit! Jack did trust him. At least, a lot more than before. 

Now Rhys had access to tons of classified information, both in the papers around the room and in the business meetings. He could barely contain his excitement. Rhys had hoped Jack would up his tasks for him sometime, and now he had! By a lot. 

Rhys gulped. Oh boy, he had a lot more responsibilities now...would he be able to handle them all? He pushed that thought aside. Of course he would be. 

“When do I start?” He asked Jack excitedly, getting to his feet. If it was possibly, he would love to start now. 

“Tomorrow. Now get the hell out of my office, I have work to do,” Jack shooed him off. Rhys beamed. That was fine. 

Rhys hopped down the steps with a newfound spring, despite his soreness and the hole in his side. 

“Night!”

“Goodnight, sugar.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why is Jack's secretary in every fic name Meg? Its so fucksdgjdngf funny to me its like all the rhack fanfic writers collectively agree that meg is the name of his secretary I-
> 
> Also the next chapters will be out a bit later because chaps 22 and 23 (the ones I'm writing rn) are suuuuuper long.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He really do have trust issues doe

A desk had been placed offhandedly to the side of Jack’s. Behind it, sat Rhys, determinedly shuffling through stacks of papers and organizing each and every single document into several neat piles. Jack sat at his own desk, occasionally throwing papers at Rhys down below him. They kept up idle chatter with each other, Jack often going on banties or tirades about various topics, people or departments. 

His voice made for explosive, entertaining white background noise. However, it did get to be a bit excessive, and at one point Rhys fought to resist the urge to cover his ears. 

Rhys had been there for the past two hours. He’d strolled into the office and paused for a moment. Something about the room layout felt off. Turns out, there was a new desk, just as Jack had said, the night before. It was rather plain, and had a simple swivel office chair. Rhys was delighted to find that unlike the normal office chairs, it was cushioned. And it rolled on four wheels. He could scoot around collecting papers without having to stand at all. Slowly but surely the floor around Jack’s desk finally emerged into view as papers were cleaned out. 

Jack found Rhys’s excessive scootering annoying. 

Rhys found Jack’s endless banter annoying. 

They put up with each other. 

Jack also took several calls. A couple were vocal reports from employees on the status of several areas down on Pandora. A couple were from executives both on and off Helios. Rhys kept a mental tally of how many insults and death threats Jack made in total. The numbers were rather high. 

The papers Rhys was in charge of were slowly but surely sorted into three piles. The tallest pile being statistics. Then came blueprints and finally, contracts. Oh boy there are a lot of them. Rhys incredulously wondered how long they’d been scattered on the floor. Months maybe? _ Years? _

He glanced over several documents in both the contract stack and the blueprint stack. A few of the contracts came from competing companies regarding weapons and ammunition or negotiations. Rhys then gave a quick overview of a couple blueprint documents. There was one shield that looked particularly well done, and a couple of grenade designs that caught his eye in particular. Rhys wondered why Jack had tossed these clearly well-done blueprints aside. 

Then again, Jack tossed everything aside. 

As Rhys worked through the extensive paperwork, his mind wandered. Why didn’t Jack just have his secretary do this? Honestly, it seemed more fitting for a secretary's job.

Rhys looked up to where Jack sat. He had quieted down about thirty minutes earlier, nose-deep in his work and furiously scribbling. 

“Hey,” Rhys called, cautiously. 

“What?” Jack didn’t pause his work or bother to look up. 

“There’s uh, there’s _ a lot _of papers here, why didn’t you just have Meg file these? I know they’re sort of classified, but isn’t this a good job for a secretary?” Rhys asked, although cautiously. Jack was generally unpredictable. 

Jack glanced up from his work and gave Rhys a scowl. 

“You whined at me for this job. Now you don’t wanna do it? Naw, you’re locked in,” Jack leaned back, putting his pen down. 

“The job’s fine, I’m willing to do it, I just meant...why didn’t you have Meg do all this sooner?” Rhys re-stated. 

Jack stood and cracked his knuckles. He heaved a long sigh. 

“Time for a big spiel. God these are fun, come with me Rhysie, let's take a walk,” Jack said, gesturing for Rhys to stand. Rhys obliged and followed Jack out of the office. 

The two took a stroll down a few hallways and down a few floors. Rhys wasn’t sure where Jack was taking him. A strain of worry crossed his mind. Should he be concerned that Jack might be leading him somewhere quiet to kill him? Rhys pondered this for a minute. No, if Jack wanted to kill him, he’d make a show of it. 

The pair of them took several more turns until…

The atrium. Jack had taken Rhys to the atrium. 

_ Well, maybe he is going to kill me and do it in a public place for a show. _

Rhys seldom visited the atrium unless he had business to get to and was forced to walk through. 

It was a massive room, rectangular shaped with a colossal sized roof spanning far far above Rhys’s head. Lining the sides were an array of well kept flora and several blazoned gold statues of Jack towering high above to the ceiling. In Rhys’s very personal opinion, the statues were a massive overkill and a very very bold expression of Jack’s egotism. 

The atrium was a fairly quiet place, it was never empty but it was never jam- pack-crowded either. At the moment, there seemed to be...maybe five others in the massive hall at the moment. 

In his peripheral vision, Rhys noted employees’ heads turning in their direction. Definitely some whispers. A few gazes were fear, a couple were confusion. One man was staring so pointedly Rhys turned his head and matched his obvious stare passive-aggressively. The man quickly moved on. 

“Mmm, yeah this place seems fitting,” Jack mused, referring to the massive artistic renditions of himself towering over them. He suddenly spun around.

“So!” He pushed a finger into Rhys’s chest. 

Rhys took a tiny step backward, heartbeat suddenly racing. 

“You wanna know something? Trust doesn’t come easy. Yeah yeah, I don’t really trust Meg, I don’t trust anyone. I don’t even trust _ you _,” Jack began. Rhys swallowed nervously. Jack tapped his metal chin clasp in thought. 

“No wait….mmmm yeah. I trust you a little bit. You’re kinda cool. Don’t go around sayin’ I said that though, it’ll make you look like a weirdo,” he sagely advised, narrowing his eyes at Rhys. Rhys nodded silently. Jack’s eyes grew more serious. 

“I get betrayed by everyone. Just one after another and then like…boof...boof...woosh!” Jack mimed a pistol. 

“Gotta put em alllll down. Never ends well for them, cause I’m the hero an’ the hero always wins yadda yadda you know the drill.”

Rhys just kept nodding silently. Using his braincell, he figured it was probably a good time to just keep quiet and let Jack speak. He figured all his metaphors and spiels he did in this similar nature was just his funky way of trying to tell Rhys something he didn’t want to say outright due to ...well...Rhys hadn’t figured out why yet. 

Jack put his hands to his hips and grinned. 

“If you abandon me too-” Jack spread his arms. 

“Don’t take it personally when kill ya, cupcake, even if its painful. You wouldn’t be the first to stab me in the back and you certainly aren’t special enough to be the last,” Jack proclaimed. Behind his lazy grin was a cold chilling expression of danger.

_ So that’s what this is about. _ Rhys put the pieces together. His nerves calmed and the unconscious act of clicking his metallic fingers together in worry, ceased. He had nothing to fear, Jack’s threats meant nothing to him since he had no intentions of deceiving his CEO.

Rhys took a deep inhale. He met Jack’s rabid gaze squarely and as calmly as he could muster. In all fairness, Jack did have a right to be wary of Rhys. Judging by what Jack was saying, he’d been backstabbed so many times that being cautious and untrusting was the mandatory deal. 

“I’m not going to betray you,” Rhys began sincerely. 

Jack’s masked expression was unchanging and stony. He was unreadable. 

“I get you don’t trust anyone, I’m not even asking you to trust me. I’m not going anywhere, I’m not going to backstab you like everyone else,” Rhys finished. He thought it was a pretty okay thing to say. 

Jack crossed his arms. He raised an eyebrow and regarding Rhys with a haughty expression. 

“Did I ask, smartass? No. Go back to your apartment. I’ll see you in the morning,” he said in a tone that was clearly dismissive. Rhys felt his heart sink a little bit. That wasn’t the reaction he’d hoped for.

“Well, thanks again for...er...saving my life yesterday,” Rhys mustered, a bit dejectedly. He paused for a moment, before spinning on a heel and turning his back to Jack. He had taken several steps in the opposite direction when-

“For the record, I do trust ya a bit, sugar. And you’re welcome.”

Jack called after his retreating form. Rhys didn’t turn back around but raised a hand in acknowledgement.

“G’night.”

————--

The next few days whizzed past in a blur. It appeared Jack erased the entire existence the conversation the two of them had from his memory. Rhys decided it would be best not to press Jack on the topic.

Their work relationship was quite normal. The two got along fairly well and worked as a well oiled machine together. Rhys found his job to be a rather nice situation, working beside Jack in his office. Well...aside from the daily homicide. 

Unfortunate employees would show up every now and then at least several times a day. Rhys had the pleasure of watching around forty or fifty percent of them get shot. It made him sick to his stomach. 

“Could you maybe...do that when I’m not in the room?” Rhys requested meekly, metallic blood scent overpowering his senses. Jack wiped the barrel of his gun. 

“Nah, don’t feel like it.”

“O-ok.”

Jack was kind enough to spare Rhys from partaking in these executions and was also kind enough to refrain from any sort of real maiming or torture while Rhys was in the room. 

At the moment, Rhys’s morals were in a tizzy and spinning all over the place. He decided to shove them out of his head and get rid of them in the moment, he’d re-organize and figure them out later. 

Rhys did however have to rework his schedule and swing into a new routine of things with his new personal assistant tasks. His new adopted schedule was a relatively normal, he just disappeared into the unknown every afternoon after lunch. Rhys was a man who worked best with a steady schedule. The new shift after lunch was definitely a big change but in the long run, it wasn’t very difficult. 

What was difficult were the meetings. Jack would message him a time and show him the location on his ECHOpad half an hour before the meeting. But that was if Rhys was lucky. Usually, Rhys had to get all dressed and ready and chase down the room somewhere in the halls of the vast space station Helios in less than fifteen minutes. The meetings were during all hours of the day, morning, afternoon and/or evening.

Rhys would sit to the left of Jack every time, taking down notes at his request. Jack would lean over and whisper insults or quips he found especially funny to Rhys. Rhys would occasionally snicker and the speakers around the table would glare at him.

They didn’t really know who this new guy was. It very much threw everyone into a confused tizzy as to why Handsome Jack suddenly had a right (or in this case, left) hand man with him every meeting who regarded them with an aloof yet scarily similar expression to Jack’s. 

Whispers often danced around the table edges and side-eyed glances would be made, sizing up Rhys. Oh man, Rhys was really doing his best to keep together and stay professional during these times.

Occasionally Jack would throw crumpled up paper balls at the speakers he disliked around the table. Thankfully, only rarely did he shoot someone in the head. 

For the most part he would just loudly, angrily talk over the speaker, remarking on their intelligence, dick size and most frequently using rather creative variations of the fuck word. 

The employees of Hyperion were very afraid of Jack. That was what Rhys picked up on in most of these meetings. The people regarded him with mostly fear and a bit of admiration despite his near-constant stream of death threats, snide remarks and random bouts of sudden anger. 

After all, Jack was the most powerful man in the galaxy and there was nothing anybody could do about it. 

————--

One evening, as Rhys was filing papers into the digital Helios database, Jack hurled a paper ball at him that struck him dead between the eyes. 

“Nice!” Jack grinned. 

“Imagine if that was a grenade! Whaboosh!! You gotta work on your reflexes, pumpkin.”

Rhys very much did NOT want to imagine that the paper was a grenade, for his own safety. 

“What do you want?” Rhys snapped. Jack frowned. 

“Rhysie, I don’t like your tone. Watch your snark.”

“Right, sorry.”

“Come up here, I have something I want your opinion on,” Jack beckoned. 

Rhys obliged, and sauntered up the steps before Jack. In Jack’s hands was a single sheet of paper. He offered it to Rhys who gingerly took it, and smoothed it out. 

The Atlas company logo was stamped at the top. It was a contract requesting that Hyperion give them four Eridium mines for 590k Eridium ingots. 

Rhys carefully inspected the text on the document.

“What do you make of it?” Jack asked. 

Rhys thought carefully. 

“This doesn’t seem like a good deal…” he observed. 

“Yeah no shit.”

Rhys pondered for a moment. 

“Double cross them,” he blurted out suddenly, looking up at Jack. 

He pointed at a chunk of text on the page. 

“There’s a meeting place here. Have them bring the ingots, you’ll bring the signed contract and then open fire,” Rhys explained. He studied Jack’s expression, looking for some sort of sign or approval that he’d done something right. Jack sat back in his chair. 

“Fascinating, princess. I thought of that days ago. Already chose a firing squad and a bunch of Loader Bots to go,” Jack grinned. Rhys handed the papers back to him.

“You’d be a good fuckin CEO, sugar,” Jack mused. 

“I know,” Rhys smiled coolly. Jack frowned. 

“That was a fucking compliment you little shit.”

“I’m well aware, thanks,” Rhys bounced back at him, suddenly feeling fired up. Jack’s face scrunched up. 

“Y’Know? You can take that metal arm of yours and shove it u-”

Their exchange of words was interrupted by the sliding sound of Jack’s office’s door opening. 

In unison they both turned to stare at the intereferee. 

Turns out, it was Vasquez. Rhys was both annoyed and amused at his coworker’s appearance. Rhys hadn’t seen him as much recently, especially since the nose-smashing incident. He had gauze plastered on his face from where Rhys had broken his nose. 

He regarded Rhys with surprise and anger flashed over his expression but he forced his mouth shut. Vasquez knew he couldn’t say anything to Rhys. 

“Handsome Jack, sir, I have a message from Henderson,” Vasquez held up a paper note in his hand. 

Jack patted his desk. 

“Leave it here.”

As Vasquez passed, Rhys felt the sudden inclination to make a snide remark. 

“If only they could fix your nose as well as they fixed your hairline,” the quip slipped out. 

Vasquez whirled around. 

“You know wh-”

“Just shut up, no one wants to hear your jabbering,” Rhys interrupted, hostility bristling. He surprised himself. He didn’t know he had such venom available in his words. 

Vasquez glared at him with a fiery gaze. His hands balled into fists. Tension ran high between the two of them. Silence cut through the air like a knife. Snickering bubbled up from behind Rhys accompanied by a slow sarcastic clapping.

“You should probably leave before you get your shit kicked in at the rate this is going!” Jack was doubled over sniggering. Both Vasquez and Rhys broke eye contact to stare at him. 

“Yes, sir,” Vasquez replied tight lipped. He spun around haughtily and stomped out the door. Jack slapped a hand on his desk, laughing. 

“I didn’t realize you were a massive asshole!” He cracked up. 

“Goddamn! You get more like me every day.”

Rhys suddenly felt an emptiness grow inside him. Did he really just say that to Vasquez? Where had that even come from? That was kind of an asshole thing to do...Was Jack really rubbing off on him as much as he said he was?

“I don’t know if that’s good or bad,” Rhys remarked. 

“I’m going with bad,” he decided. Jack kicked back in his chair. 

“Call it whatever. File these documents for me,” Jack threw a couple more papers at him, which Rhys miraculously caught. He then nodded and ambled back to his desk setting to work. 

\-----------

At lunch break the next day it was just Vaughn. Yvette had been skipping a few lunches the past week or so. She said it was because of an overload in her work agenda. 

“So...where have you been lately?” Vaughn started off. Rhys frowned. 

“What do you mean?”

“I walk past your department every afternoon, you haven’t been there the past week,” Vaughn explained. Rhys felt his stomach drop. Shit, what should he say? Surgery excuse? No…

Rhys struggled to come up with a viable excuse. 

“I-Uh… I’ve started taking walks every afternoon. I'm trying to improve my physical health, you know?” He stammered out. 

“Oh, nice! If you wanna get as buff as me though, you gotta hit the gym,” Vaughn advised sincerely. Rhys shook his head. 

“No thank you. I’m not a gym guy.”

Rhys sipped his drink. 

“So how's your promotion been going?” He asked. Vaughn’s face brightened.

“Really good actually. I’m in charge of everyone’s financing...and Rhys. You have been taking up ALOT of the budget for this weapon prototype. You know, the element one?”

Rhys chuckled abashedly. 

“Sorry ‘bout that…”

Vaughn shook his head. 

“It’s fine, I just have to complain to Henderson about budget every now and then,” he shrugged. His eyes suddenly narrowed and he pushed his glasses up on his nose in a serious manner. Rhys was in the middle of taking a good sized bite out of his sandwich when-

“I’ve heard some rumors, Rhys.”

Rhys promptly choked. He dropped his sandwich and hacked out his throat in a coughing fit. 

“W-What rumors would that be?” He struggled out, taking a swig of his drink. 

“Well, I’ve heard from Henderson whose been chatting with other executives that Handsome Jack has a new personal assistant,” Vaughn leaned forwards, dropping his voice almost to a whisper. 

Rhys laughed nervously. Vaughn didn’t know it was Rhys, right? Rhys decided to play the dumb card. 

“Really? I heard his last five were killed,” he remarked back, also dropping his voice. Vaughn narrowed his eyes. 

“Yeah. They're describing this new guy as almost a close copy of Jack himself. Apparently the guys a real jackass,” Vaughn relayed his information. Rhys cringed inwardly. He didn’t want to rub off as a jackass...Urgh...He’d have to work on his professional image later. 

“Huh, interesting. I’ll try and get a look at the guy sometime,” Rhys nodded thoughtfully in response. 

“I’ve also heard that he’s got an ECHOeye. Rhys, how many people do you know who have an ECHOeye?”

Rhys paled. Was his cover blown? Shit. He clicked his fingers together.

“Uh...I know there aren’t that many people who survive the surgery…” Rhys began. Should he continue to play the dumb oblivious card? Should he confess? 

He decided to stick as playing the idiot. 

“I don’t know of anyone…” Rhys suddenly gasped. 

“You think there's another person on Helios with an ECHOeye like me?” He asked excitedly. Vaughn narrowed his eyes at him, trying to decide whether Rhys was serious or not. Rhys’s heart raced, would playing dumb really work? It took everything in his control not to break down right then and there. He stared at his friend for a few moments.

Vaughn must have bought it because he shrugged. 

“Yeah, must be. There's a rumor going around that he was seen with Handsome Jack in the atrium. You going to try and get a glimpse of him?” Vaughn asked. Rhys pondered this for a moment. 

“It would be nice to talk to another with the ECHOeye but if he’s anything like Jack...it seems like I should avoid him...for my own safety,” Rhys decided, choosing his words carefully. Shit, he made a mistake. He cursed inwardly at the fact he hadn’t used Jack’s full title in front of Vaughn. Luckily, Vaughn didn’t appear to notice. 

“Yeah and-” Vaughn started but was cut off from a buzzing from Rhys’s ECHOpad. Rhys quickly snatched it off the table to see what was going on. 

It was a message from Jack ordering him to get up to the office. The text didn’t seem very threatening, but with Jack he could never be sure. 

“Shit...I gotta go, sorry man. I forgot I had a blueprint due this afternoon, good thing I set an alarm...hah,” Rhys stammered out an explanation rather blankly. He got to his feet and tucked his ECHOpad into his back pocket. 

“I’ll catch you later man.”

“See you.”

With that, Rhys turned and hurried out of the cafeteria. 

————--

Turns out, Jack had summoned Rhys to the office to give him special news. Rhys was attending the executive party that night. 

“What time is it?”

“Meet me outside the office at 9 tonight.”

Rhys frowned. 

“Why do I have to be there? Is this some event where you’re going to steal my blueprints and not give me credit?”

“Holy shit! I hear something! Listen carefully...what is that whining sound? It sounds like a wambulance! What’s a wambulance doing in front of me in my office?” Jack asked incredulously. Rhys did not find this as amusing as Jack did. 

“Oh shut up you hypocrite! You were complaining to me just this morning about how the newest production of Hyperion weapons didn’t have HYPERION painted on their sides!” Rhys retorted. 

“Well maybe, if you ran a massive company, you’d want your credit too!” Jack retaliated. Not the wisest choice. Rhys stared at him. 

“That is my point, Jack.”

“Shut up. You’ll be getting credit for ya work all right. You’re gonna need to prepare a speech,” Jack sprung on him. 

“You want me to prepare a speech before tonight?” Rhys asked incredulously. Jack scowled. 

“Is there a problem?”

“Yes! I can’t prepare a speech in that time!” 

“Too bad. Oh, you also need to wear your nice clothes,” Jack gestured to him. 

Rhys heaved a sigh. 

“Alright. Fine. I’ll do that,” he said defeated. A wide grin spread across Jack’s mask. 

“Wow! So compliant! Thanks, Rhysie.”

Rhys rolled his eyes in a huff and spun around. He stomped out of the office grumpily, Jack’s cheering smile at his back. He was cursing to himself on his way past Meg who cautiously, and curiously watched him storm past. 

“Stupid fucking CEO thinks he knows everything I cant get a speech ready in that time is he trying to make a fucking fool of me what the fuck why can’t he just do it his fucking self of something huh why do I have to make the speech,” was the tag end of his angry ramble. 

So Rhys took the day off to retreat into his room back at his apartment in order to bang out a speech in time for the execute party that night. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delayed update its been harder for me to find time to write because of school. i also have to balance my free time between writing and drawing so its a bit tough. The rough draft of the newest chapter I'm working on ended up being 7K words so it took me a while to crank through that. 
> 
> Here are some cool solius links if you wanna see my art or jsut chat with me, i love talking to people!  
[Solius Instagram](https://www.instagram.com/p/B7rmHofgSUC/?igshid=hr2ks2tqr8g)
> 
> [Solius Tumblr](%E2%80%9C)


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drunk jack is a fuckin blast to write mostly because he's just a stupider but wilder version of himself

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has been my favorite chapter to write so far

The party was labeled an executive party for a reason. Rhys followed Jack into the room. It was massive. Ballroom size. The room was pleasantly lit with precise lighting not too bright yet not too soft. Tables with white cloth were strewn about the room. People milled about, exchanging conversations and drinks. It was pretty packed. 

Rhys found himself glancing around nervously at the swarm of unfamiliar faces. There were a lot more people than he expected. Were they all executives? Everyone was dressed in proper black suits with red ties except for him and Jack which caused occasional wayward stares cast in their direction. 

At one end of the room, there was a small, slightly raised platform. A speaker's platform. Rhys subconsciously patted his breast pocket where he kept his hastily scripted speech folded in.

Along the side wall was a table filled with snacks, champagne glasses and a large bowl of punch being carefully monitored by three employees. Hmm...there was something about the snack table that jump-started a memory. Something nagged at the back of Rhys’s brain. A memory of a conversation he’d had a while back. 

_ “I’ve been invited to the executive party this month,” _Vaughn’s voice rang out in his head. Then the whole exchange about fancy snacks with Yvette. 

Realizing the gravity of his current situation, Rhys felt like he’d been hit in the face with a brick. 

_ Oh shit oh shit oh shit shit shit FUCK _

Vaughn was at this party too wasn’t he? Oh no. At the very least he’d definitely see Rhys up on the speaker’s platform. Rhys cursed inwardly, panic flooding through his veins. He was suddenly very self conscious of his surroundings. His gaze darted around nervously, terrified to catch a glimpse of his best friend in the crowd. 

Rhys glanced over at Jack beside him. Should he mention something to Jack? Probably not. Most likely, Jack would assume Rhys was trying to find an excuse to get out of speaking at the party. Rhys frowned in thought. Maybe he’d just ask Jack a vague question, instead of a pointed one. 

“Hey, uh, what do I do if someone recognizes me or I-and this is all hypothetical-know someone here?” 

Jack glanced over at him and opened his mouth. 

“This is an executive party. Anyone here should know you by now. Although, I still want you to be kept as a rumor to all the guys below executive stats but executives are cleared to know,” he clarified. 

“Oh,” Rhys nodded. “Ok.”

“Is everyone here really an executive? there's a lot of them,” he remarked. 

“Yeah. The reason there’s so many is ‘cause they’re allowed to bring their assistants and vices if they want,” Jack responded, side-eyeing the snack table. 

Ah, okay. So that’s why Vaughn was invited here. He was an assistant. 

Jack suddenly spun around. 

“I have some business to take care of, you have fun on your own for a bit, k?” he dropped on Rhys abruptly. 

With no time to really process what Jack said, Rhys nodded quickly, watching him saunter off and disappear into the crowd. Rhys suddenly felt the weight of loneliness fall onto his shoulders. He turned around, desperately searching for a familiar face...anything...anyone. No luck.

It was just a sea of unfamiliar people. Tight fabric and heat wove around him. Anxiety suddenly kicked off in his brain and he began to nervously click his metallic fingers together. 

_ Everyone’s looking at me...I look so awkward here...I’m standing out...stop looking at me…. _

Several persons studied him with a curious eye and Rhys felt their stares burning into his skull. He set his jaw in a firm line and gave them a stern glare. People's wayward gazes were quickly averted. 

What should he do? What would be the least awkward thing to do?

Rhys stood still for a moment, studying his surroundings. A few people held glasses with drinks. Rhys decided that he’d be able to fit in more if he got one of those. It would also be easier to strike up conversation, so he grabbed a drink. It was just plain punch, but just holding the glass made him feel more secure. He drew up his shoulders and took a breath. This was fine. He’d be fine. 

He searched around for an empty table. Spotting one near the outskirts of the party, he speedily made his way over and sighed in relief at being out of the crowded mess. Rhys leaned against the tablecloth, surveying the crowd before him. 

Taking a sip of his punch, his nose wrinkled at its strange bitterness. Huh...must be a special type or something. Rhys didn’t really care for it, so he set down his glass and took to observing the party attendees milling about before him. 

Then, out of nowhere, Jack popped up and strolled over to Rhys. He sidled up beside him. 

“Cool party right?”

“Yeah, sure,” Rhys mumbled. He anxiously drummed his fingers on the table. 

“That’s my drink now!” Jack said swooping over Rhys’s arm and snatching up his glass. 

“Hey! That’s not nice,” Rhys protested. Jack held up a finger to his face, shushing him. Rhys scowled and watched Jack down the whole thing in one straight shot. He smashed down the now-empty glass onto the table and gave Rhys a grin. That was never a good sign. Rhys sighed hopelessly.

“Brighten up, princess and come with me. I’m about to give an opening speech,” Jack proclaimed, grabbing a reluctant Rhys’s metal arm and dragging him back through the crowd. 

————--

Rhys stood at the base of the speaker platform, watching Jack above him. Jack was in the middle of giving a proper welcome spiel… 

“‘Evening fuckers! Got a lotta speakers to get through tonight, so listen up! Firstly, Hyperion has been stronger than ever lately, productions have been up by 4% this week alone! Good to know everyone’s doing their job! 

“Sad to say, I did have to let go of a few department heads this month, very sad I know yadda yadda go cry, but Hyperion thrived on without them so who gives a fuck,” Jack waved his hands in order to capture the essence of his words. Everyone listened attentively, including Rhys. 

“First speaker is for a special prototype of mine, Project ISEC, we’ll continue down the line alphabetically after. You’re legally allowed to leave at 10:30. Enjoy the boring speeches!” Jack waved at the crowd before stepping down and locking eyes with Rhys at the bottom. 

“Don’t screw up or I’ll shoot out your kneecaps for fuckin’ up my personal project, kitten” Jack gave a broad smile on the way by. Rhys rolled his eyes and stepped up past him. 

“Yes, _ sir _,” he shot back under his breath. Jack gave a chuckle and hopped into the crowd.

Rhys gripped the railing and took a great inhale, calming the fluttering sensation in his chest and the queasy feeling of his stomach. 

He stepped up into the spotlight and looked out into the crowd, his speech paper in hand. He couldn’t see any familiar faces, Vaughn or even Jack for that matter, everyone blended together. He opened his mouth.

“My name is Rhys Strongfork and this is Project ISEC, a special little task I was assigned a few weeks ago.”

————--

His speech was a major success. As Rhys stepped down from the platform, he couldn’t keep the grin off his face. It had gone exquisitely well, just as he’d envisioned. 

The next speaker was already on top of the platform. The presentations were a very casual event, most people below milled about chatting quietly. Rhys searched around the crowd. Jack was nowhere in sight. 

Rhys sighed, a weight suddenly pushing down on him. Damn, his speech had been really tiring, thank god it was over. He decided he’d go sit at another table on the outside of the room. 

Making his way over, he was briefly stopped a couple times by executives, complimenting him or asking questions about the prototype. Rhys was very careful about what questions he answered and how he answered them. Didn’t want to give away too much information for security purposes. 

“Rhys!”

A voice called out. Rhys spun around, hopeful. Had Jack found him?

“I’m behind you! Bro what the hell is going on?”

Rhys came face to face with his roommate. 

“Vaughn! Hey...heyyyyy didn’t expect to see you here, hah...haha...what a coincidence,” Rhys stammered. 

Vaughn glared up at him. Yes, _ up _at him. Vaughn was an incredibly short man. He was wearing a suit. A suit! Rhys had never seen Vaughn in anything fancier than his work outfit. He was too feral for any sleek shiny business get-ups. 

“Nice outfit,” Rhys complimented. His mind raced...should he tell Vaughn the truth? The half truth? What was safe to divulge?

“Okay, what in the absolute _ fuck _ is going on here, Rhys? I-What kind of clothes are you even wearing! Why are you here?”

“It-”

“Actually, don’t answer that,” Vaughn pinched the bridge of his nose. 

“You made a fucking _ speech _ at an executive event about _ Handsome Jack’s _ own special prototypes? Prototypes, you designed! Tell me this Rhys, what the hell and what in the FUCK is go-” Vaughn suddenly stuttered off in mid thought. Rhys was thankful for that. He was _ trying _to answer his bro’s rapid fire, angry questioning, but Vaughn wasn’t giving him a chance! 

Rhys was about to answer all of his roomates questions when a nearby presence suddenly fell over him. 

He watched Vaughn very visibly turn a vivid shade of white, staring over Rhys’s shoulder. Rhys glanced behind him, searching for what was bringing Vaughn such visible fear. 

Jack had swaggered up from behind Rhys and placed a hand on his metallic shoulder. Rhys stiffened at the newfound weight. Jack leaned on him slightly and Rhys frowned, studying him. His balance seemed to be slightly off. Hmmmm…weird...

If he didn’t know any better, he’d say Jack was tipsy. 

Rhys took a deep inhale and long exhale, mentally preparing himself for whatever was to come between the three of theirs interaction. There were a million ways this could go and several hundred thousand ways this could not turn out well. He was about to begin an explanation to Vaughn but Jack beat him to it. 

“I see you know my personal assistant...huh. You must be…” Jack took his free hand and put it up for a brief second in thought, brows furrowed. His speech was crystal clear. That was good. Maybe he wasn’t drunk.

“John, is it? Yeah… you look like a John,” He decided, pointing. Vaughn simply stared, dumbfounded, too freaked to reply. 

“Vaughn,” Rhys corrected Jack. Jack waved a hand. 

“Eh whatever. Same thing.”

Vaughn was staring incredulously back and forth between the two. His expression was comprised of mostly fear. Probably for Rhys. Correcting the CEO to his face was a dangerous thing to do. For most people that was. Then again, Rhys wasn’t most people. 

“I’ve heard some stuff about you, sugar, from Rhysie here. All good things,” Jack remarked. Rhys had brought up both Yvette and Vaughn briefly in one of his afternoons in Jack’s office. 

Jack patted Rhys’s shoulder and continued talking at Vaughn. 

“I don't care what your executive status is but try not to let anything slip to anyone about this guy’s status as my PA. Doesn't matter if you two are friends, I’ll still airlock you,” Jack explained pleasantly. Rhys sighed. Poor Vaughn. He looked utterly terrified. 

“Right! Say goodbye Rhysie and come with me, I want you to meet some people,” Jack said removing his hand from the cold metal of Rhys’s shoulder. 

“Uh-I-I’d better get going,” Rhys stammered out abashedly. 

“We can talk later, nice to see you!” Rhys said. It came out quite lame. 

“Y-Yeah. Sure bro, I'm actually headed home now but yeah, uh see you around. And uh...n-nice to meet you, sir,” Vaughn replied meekly. Jack grunted and turned away. Rhys gave one last wave before hurrying to catch up with his boss’s quick strides. 

————--

The people Jack introduced Rhys to were a couple of high executives. Well...meet was a relative term. Jack basically told the two executives, a tall woman and a stocky man, that they had to listen to Rhys if he had any issues about prototypes or certain papers. 

In short, they weren’t under Rhys’s command but they were expected to partake in certain prototype manufacturing business as Rhys saw fit. The pair were polite, and Rhys struck up a good hearty conversation about weapons manufacturing. Jack stood offhandedly in the background as Rhys delightedly explained some of the recent prototypes that had been sent to the manufacturing labs. 

About six minutes passed before he stepped up and grasped Rhys’s arm. 

“Times up. There are a couple other people I want you to meet too.”

As Rhys and Jack ambled around, the clock ticked by. Rhys had lost count of people he was meeting. Jack made his usual snarky comments but this time holding a glass of the punch.

Apparently, he’d lost track of how many glasses of the stuff he’d had. Even Rhys decided to pay a visit to the punch table before they ran out. 

As time at the party crawled on, the number of guests was slowly dwindling. For some reason, Rhys felt uneasier as more people left. Strange, considering he’d felt so stressed with the massive number of guests to begin with. 

Although maybe he felt uncomfortable with less strangers because the general stares in his direction seemed more direct and pointed. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say hostile. Rhys figured it was because there weren’t as many people in the room, so he wasn’t hidden away in the crowd. 

Rhys slowly grew more tired, and hung back, letting Jack do all the talking. He could run his mouth for hours and never tire and to be honest it was a rather incredible feat. As time passed, Rhys could tell he was getting tired too. Angry outbursts were more frequent and Rhys could tell Jack was struggling to keep his cool. 

“How about we take a break,” Rhys suggested cautiously as Jack was wrapping up conversation with another executive. 

“Yeah. This party’s lame anyways,” Jack grumbled. The two of them ambled over and stood at a table at the edges of the crowd. Rhys studied Jack with mild concern. His steps had appeared to be less balanced than usual. Why was that? Rhys tried to use his brain. He struggled for a moment, glancing around until his eyes fell on the empty glass in front of Jack. 

“Is that...by chance alcoholic?” Rhys asked. If it was, Rhys was in trouble. He not only would have to deal with an intoxicated Handsome Jack, he’d have to deal with himself. Rhys was very lightweight. Any amount of alcohol for him was a big no-no.

Jack shook his head. A small grin was tugging at the corners of his mouth. 

“Nahhhh don’t think so...maybe it is? I dunno, don’t care,” Jack replied. Rhys frowned. 

“Are you drinking out of your flask?” Rhys questioned. Jack scowled. 

“What are you, space police? No, it’s empty,” he shot back. 

“So you are drinking out of your flask.”

“No! Take your brain cell outta your dick and put it back in you’ goddamn head. I never filled it to begin with, idiot,” Jack countered, clarifying his answer. 

“Is there a chance this punch you’ve been drinking is actually alcoholic?” 

A lightbulb suddenly brightened in Rhys’s mind. 

“Wait! Do you think the punch was spik-”

“Excuse me, sirs. I’d like to have a word with Handsome Jack, alone,” a woman had escaped both Rhys and Jack’s notice and approached the table. Her eyes were steely blue.

“Sorry hon, I’m done for the night. If you’re looking for hooku-” Rhys smacked Jack’s arm. 

“Get your brain cell out of your dick and put it back in your head. She means business,” Rhys fired back to Jack under his breath. Rhys suddenly snapped his mouth shut. Jack stared at him incredulously. Rhys gave a nervous chuckle. Maybe talking back to Handsome Jack with a snide directive comment wasn’t the best idea. 

Not a good idea sober, that is. Rhys was definitely not feeling his best at the moment.

Jack turned away from him and began a sudden overflow of words at the unamused woman before him. 

“Well then what sort of business do you want? If you’re here to talk prototypes, which I have a very sneaking suspicion that you don’t-”

Rhys jumped and almost let out a surprised yelp. A hand grabbed his leg from under the table. It moved up to his hip very non inconspicuously. The woman stared at Rhys who managed a pained smile. She turned her attention back to Jack still running his mouth to her face.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Rhys hissed at Jack whose face remained impassive. Jack ignored him. A tiny click reached Rhys’s ears and a slight weight was lifted off the right side of his hip. It suddenly dawned on him exactly what Jack was doing and it was not a good thing to have when drunk. 

“No, Jack put the gun down. Give it b-” 

“Shut up for a moment, kitten, I’m having an important conversation here!” Jack proclaimed, turning to look at Rhys, annoyance creeping onto mask. Rhys glared into his gaze. Something seemed off. 

“What do you want, that’s possibly so much more important than-” 

It happened in a blur, faster than Rhys could comprehend. A loud bang and an accompanied crash sparked a massive commotion. Rhys shouted in surprise and lurched backwards at the explosion. He instinctively shielded his face with his robotic arm. Flames singed the edges of the metal. 

The sound of Jack’s raucous laughing reached his ears. Rhys lowered his arm and took in his surroundings wildly. His heartbeat roared in his ears and he felt the floodgates of adrenaline open. 

Jack had Rhys’s gun in his grasp. What remained of the woman's messy body parts was blown over the table and carpeted floor. Rhys’s breath shortened and he forced himself to stay calm. Dead bodies weren't a new thing for him...it was fine it was fine it was…

“What the FUCK?” Rhys screamed. He didn’t know what to do? What happened? Jack...what did Jack just do?”

Rhys whirled around to Jack’s cackling form. He clutched his chest. 

“WOOOOH! More explosions baby! Oh shit that never gets old!” He roared. Blood splattered his mask in an elegant fashion. It soaked into his coat and bloody pulp slithered down his front. His eyes bulged in a crazed look. He was grinning maniacally as he waved the gun around. 

A thin veil of smoke hung in the air. It began to dissipate although slowly. Rhys coughed and batted it aside. 

“Jesus, Jack. What-”

“Aw hell yeah! There’s more of you than I hoped! Wonderful! Y’Know what they say! More the merrier in a massacre!” Jack crowed gleefully. Rhys blinked in confusion. The haze from the previous explosion cleared. Rhys found himself on the receiving end of around two dozen SMG barrels. 

“Oh what th-”

Faster than the blink of an eye Jack struck the table leg with a swift well-aimed kick. He grabbed Rhys’s arm and yanked him down behind the makeshift cover. Just in the nick of time too. 

The wall of bullets slammed into the wall where Rhys’s head was a moment before. Shots rained out and Rhys resisted the urge to cover his ears and curl up into the fetal position.

Short of breath, Rhys reached for his gun. The adrenaline had already kicked off. This was life or death. He had to defend himself and get both him and Jack out of this room. They were trapped in here, they had to get out to survive. 

Rhys’s fingers curled on empty air. Shit, Jack had his gun. 

“Give me the gun,” Rhys demanded. Jack tossed it over without a second word and drew his own. Rhys tried the strategy he used before. Just peak around the side of the table, aim and fire. 

A stinging sensation ripped down his arm. Rhys hissed and jerked back at the sudden pain. Tears welled up in his eyes at the sensation. His sleeve was smoking and singed away to reveal a bright red burn mark slashed across the outside of his arm. Bullet had just grazed him. 

“What are we gonna do? We’re going to die here,” Rhys moaned. Fear flooded his veins. He didn’t even know what was going on? Who were these people? All Rhys knew was that they were trying to kill him and Jack. This was another life or death thing. 

“Nah, gimme a moment,” Jack said, a grin spreading across his face. Despite their dire situation and bullets beginning to wear down the wood of the table, a look of genuine excitement stained his bloodied mask. 

Out of nowhere he produced a yellow remote that fit snugly into the palm of his hand. It had a singular red button on its surface. 

“What is that?” Rhys shouted over the crack of bullets. 

“Loader bots, baby! Loader bots!”

Jack smashed the button with his fist and the room around them began to tremble. 

Seamless doors hidden in the walls opened from half a dozen spots around the room. Rhys was transfixed in fascination. Glowing red eyes omitted from within and a dozen bots in all their clickety clackety glory sprang to life. 

“Get back!” 

The hail of bullets ceased for a moment and disorganized commotion began as the loader bots focused their fire on Rhys and Jack’s assailants. 

Jack leapt to his feet and over the table, an SMG in his hands. Rhys scrambled upright. 

“Jack, get back here! It’s not safe!” He yelled. 

“Pussy!” Jack retorted back over his shoulder. 

“I’m goin’ to make some mayhem!”

Rhys could only stand frozen, as he watched Jack enter the fray. Say, he wasn’t terribly worried, knowing Jack, he'd probably be fine. Right? Right? A peculiar sense of panic settled over Rhys. What if Jack wasn’t fine? 

Wanting to be of some help, Rhys’s ECHOeye aim flickered to life and he aimed down the barrel. Cursing, he brushed it away. He couldn't get a clear shot without running the risk of accidentally hitting Jack. 

So what did Rhys do? He stayed put, gun at the ready near the table. His knuckles were white on the handle. Yeah, like a fuckin’ pussy. 

He could vaguely make out Jack’s figure through the haze, in between loader bots and leaping over the bloody pools of bodies and parts strewn on the floor. 

Rhys could hear the gunfire gradually coming to a halt. He stepped forwards out from behind the table. Jack stumbled out of the haze in an uneven gait. If he wasn’t drenched in blood before, he was now. 

“Jack!” Rhys exclaimed. A stab of panic and worry crashed over Rhys. Was he injured? That much blood-

Jack’s teeth gleamed in a wide twisted grin. The red glare of loader bot eyes behind him cooled. One by one they began to shut down and fold into an inert state. 

Rhys couldn’t hold it in any longer. He forced his feet to carry him all the way across the floor. Jack had to be ok. He had to be ok, he had to.

He skidded to a halt in front of his boss. 

Jack put his hands in the air. 

“WOOOOOH! That was fucking awesome!” Jack whooped, laughing. He dropped his bloodstained gun which clattered to the floor. Well...it seemed the blood dripping off his mask wasn’t his. Jack wiped a tear from his eye. 

“Oh man, you should've seen some of these guys up close-there was this one du-”

Jack paused at Rhys’s expression. 

“Wh-”

“Don’t fucking do that! Jesus, you scared me half to death! You’re clearly fine but-”

“_You _ were worried about _ me _?”

“Yeah. ‘Cause I’m your PA. That’s my job,” Rhys spat out angrily. His breath came out short. Inhaling he hooked his pistol back to his holster, wounded arm giving a painful twinge. 

“Don’t give me that look, pumpkin! I’m great! How's my hair look? Oooooh these blood chunks are gonna take a looong time to get out,” Jack groaned, wincing as he felt the swoop of hair on his left temple. 

He sauntered past Rhys to the snacks table. Or what was left of it. The entire room looked like a tornado had just ripped through. Tables filled with bullets and turned upwards. Trampled bodies were strewn throughout the room. The stench of blood hit the roof of Rhys’s mouth and he keeled over, throwing up the contents of his dinner. 

He coughed, oh god it was disgusting. Bloody pulp and muscles-he forced himself to focus anywhere but the dead people. The walls were riddled with holes. A few of the loader bots had taken a good beating as well. 

Somehow, the punch bowl was still intact. Jack poured himself yet another glass. He leaned against the table, clearly enjoying himself amidst all the chaos and bloodshed. 

“W-Who the hell were those guys?” Rhys stuttered. His knees shook and he resisted the urge to hurl once more. 

“Dunno. Spies, traitors or whatever you wanna call it. Found out about this little plan of theirs a couple days ago,” his mood blackened instantly, and he took another sip. Rhys exhaled, trying to calm his nerves. 

“And you decided to take care of it by a loader bot trap and yourself?”

“Yuh-hu-” 

Jack tried to push off from leaning against the table and promptly stumbled, nearly falling to the floor. Rhys’s eyes widened. He was instantly at Jack’s side, giving him a concerned once-over. He held out an arm. Using one bloodstained hand Jack grabbed it for support.

“Are you sure you aren’t hurt?” 

“Oh yeah. This all ain’t mine, they all jus’ made a mess over me,” Jack flapped a hand. Something clicked into place at Jack’s sloppy mannerisms. 

“Jack...you’re drunk, aren't you?”

“Wh-maybe. I dunno-” Jack shrugged it off. He took a deep breath and straightened upright. 

“Lets’ get goin’, we can let the janitors take care of this,” Jack waved a hand around at the mess. Laughter bubbled up from his core. He threw down his last glass.

“Oh boy that was a good tim-”

Jack took a step forward and slipped on a particularly slick patch of blood. He grabbed Rhys’s metal arm for support, still chuckling. Rhys sighed. 

“Give me your arm-yep, thanks,” Rhys managed. He slung Jack’s right arm over his head along the top of his shoulders, offering support. 

Jack was still giggling to himself. 

“Hey-maniac murderer, where do you want to go?” Rhys asked, punching Jack’s side in order to gain his attention. Jack paused for a moment. 

“My apartment,” he decided. Rhys stared at him. He really was out of it, wasn’t he?

“Uh, you sure I’m allowed in there?” Rhys asked giving a nervous chuckle. Jack stepped forwards which dragged the shorter man along with him. 

“Yeah, it's fine. C’mon-” Jack stumbled again. He scowled. 

“Who put all these limbs here?” He asked angrily glaring at the floor. Rhys rolled his eyes. 

“You did, dumbass,” Rhys pulled him forwards. Jack laughed. 

“Wow! Very cool.”

They made it out the door in one piece. That was the first step. Luckily, the elevators were located just outside the ballroom. No one was in any surrounding halls at the time, so a blood soaked Jack and a rather tired Rhys weren’t seen stumbling into the elevator by any unwanted gazes. 

The elevator doors slid shut. Rhys let out a sigh of relief and sagged against the wall. Jack began to excitedly tell Rhys explicit details about the massacre that occurred minutes earlier. He removed his arm from across Rhys’s shoulders, as he no longer needed support. 

Rhys’s hearing slightly fuzzed over, as Jack’s enthusiastic telling of gore and action turned to white noise. The elevator felt like it was taking forever. Rhys rubbed his temple and kept his gaze fastened to the door as Jack rambled on. He nodded occasionally, which made it seem as though he was listening intently. 

At long last the elevator doors slid open and Rhys practically leaped out. Being enclosed in a small space with a drunken, bloodied maniac was not on his list of preferable things. 

Jack brushed past him, taking the lead. Rhys hurried to catch up. They were on the twenty-second floor. 

Rhys slowed as he bounded to Jack’s side. 

“We’re going to the ...office? Do you sleep in the office??” Rhys questioned. 

“‘Course not! The door s’ in the office,” Jack corrected him. 

The doors to Jack’s office slid open at his very presence. Meg was not behind her desk. 

Jack strode forwards into the office. He lead Rhys across to the left side of his desk. Rhys hadn’t noticed before but off in the corner was the outline of two sliding doors. They were painted red. 

“Take me up,” Jack said aloud. Bewilderment crossed Rhys’s mind. Was Jack talking to him? 

“What? Oh-”

The doors slid open and Jack stepped in. His boots thumped against the metal floor. Rhys cautiously entered behind him. The interior was polished silver. No buttons or a control panel waited inside. It was strange. He nearly lost his balance as it began it’s ascent. Rhys’s head pounded as he clutched the railing. Fast moving vehicles were _ really _not his type. 

He looked over to Jack. 

“Are you sure I can be up here? I should be getting back to my own place soon…” 

“Yeah, this is closer. Probably the safest spot at the moment. Don’t know if any potential assassins from earlier are still roamin’ around.”

Finally, the elevator came to a smooth halt. The doors slid open and Rhys peered out, taking in the sight before him. Jack sauntered into his place. 

“C’mon in,” Jack waved a hand. 

Rhys warily observed the surroundings from the elevator. The room it emptied into was fairly spacious. To the left was a massive window that looked out to millions of stars. The glowing surface of Pandora could be seen below. 

To the right was a very living room-esque set up. A white couch and a glass coffee table sat opposite a holographic tv. On the table were several mugs remotes and pistols. The floor was a carpeted cream color. Green leafy plants stood in the corners of the room. Looking up, the ceiling was much lower than the one in Jack’s office. 

Across the living room, Rhys could see a doorway into what appeared to be a kitchen. To the right was another doorway that lead off down a hall. Bedrooms and bathroom perhaps?

Rhys crossed the elevator threshold. 

“Unfamiliar persons identified. Activating defenses.” A strangely automated voice echoed out of nowhere. Rhys yelped and step back into the elevator with his hands up. 

“Hold up-I-”

“No! Shutdown defenses, it's fine he’s with me!” Jack spun around and yelled at the disembodied voice, which appeared to be an AI. 

“Yes, sir,” the same voice issued. Jack’s shoulders sagged. His gaze moved to Rhys’s timid form. He burst out laughing and slapped a hand over his mask. 

“Oh-god its been a fucking hilarious night!” He gasped stumbling backwards and collapsing on the couch. Rhys gingerly stepped out of the elevator. No further threats from the AI followed. He sighed in relief. 

Jack was doubled over laughing on his couch. Rhys cautiously approached, taking the comfortable reclining chair at the couches side. He glanced over at the window once more. He squinted, a sudden sense of deja-vu clouding his thoughts. God it seemed _ so _familiar. Had he been here before?

“WoooH!” Jack let out, finally collecting his senses. He swung his legs upright, flicking tears of laughter off his mask. Producing his silver flask from underneath his jacket, he unscrewed the cap, preparing to take a swig. 

“Hey! No! You’ve had enough to drink already, no more,” Rhys insisted, leaning over and attempting to snatch it away from him. Jack dodged him. 

“Excuse you, go get your own. This is mine,” his eyes narrowed. Rhys grabbed his arm. 

“You’ve had quite enough now! You should be going to sleep soon, not drinking enough for an entire night!” Rhys exclaimed. Jack looked over at him, eyes narrowed. He studied Rhys’s face for a moment. 

“Fine. I’m putting it away…” Jack muttered angrily under his breath. 

Rhys gave a momentary sigh of relief. He was good...for now. At the moment, his current tasks were to 

  1. A) Get Jack asleep, so he could get back to his own place. Jack probably wouldn’t let Rhys leave so Rhys decided it’d be easiest to slip away once he was sleeping. 
  2. B) Not let him drink anymore, because that would keep him awake longer, further hindering Rhys’s process of getting back to his own place. Rhys was also afraid that sober Jack would be angry at both him and drunk Jack for letting Rhys into his apartment. 
  3. C) Bandage his arm.

“Where are your medical supplies?” Rhys asked Jack, who was currently disarming himself of weapons and adding them to the pile on his coffee table. 

“In the kitchen. Above the sink,” Jack answered shortly. He seemed to be in a sudden mood. Rhys stood and ambled through the doorway opposite the living room. Out of Jack’s sight he let out a breath. Oh man, it was going to be a loooong night. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fast update cause i wrote a 5-6k word chapter in 3 days wooh yeah


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vaughn is incredibly concerned and just wants whats best for his friend. We all need a friend like Vaughn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Little filler chapter. Cool rhys chapter is next chapter hehe

Rhys rifled through a few cabinets above the sink before he found the medical supplies he needed. Most of the other cabinets in his search contained an assortment of snacks and cereal. 

He unraveled a good length of gauze and tore off the piece with his metal arm. Wincing, he pressed it to the aggravated skin and gently began to wind it tightly around the burn where the bullet grazed him. It stung like a bitch. Rhys hissed through his teeth and tucked the loose end under, securing his wrap. It gave a painful throb. 

Rhys flexed his arm experimentally, making sure the bandage was secure before he stepped across the kitchen threshold and back to the main room where his drunken boss was situated. Entering the room, he spied Jack with his flask out again, taking a good swig. Rhys scowled and marched across the room. He swiped the flask right out of Jack’s grip. 

Under ordinary circumstances, Rhys would have never dared to do such a drastic action, but it was not a normal circumstance. Even Rhys wasn’t thinking crystal clear. He’d had a couple glasses throughout the night, and if his suspicions were correct and the punch was laced with alcohol, it made him a tad bit woozy himself. 

“Give it back! You’re not allowed to have any! Hand it over!” Jack complained. He was acting strangely reminiscent of a five-year old in the midst of a tantrum. Rhys’s eyes narrowed. Jack didn’t make much effort to move off the couch and instead gave the other man puppy eyes, pleading. 

“No!” Rhys refused. He firmly placed the flask on the table behind him and spun back around to face Jack. He leaned over and pointed a finger at him in an accusative manner. 

“You need to be more careful! What if the punch had been spiked with poison instead of alcohol? You’d be dead! Y––” Rhys cut himself off. His brain was still functioning to a high extent, he knew better than to just hurl out insults to Jack. 

“Just–you need to be careful. There could still be something in it other than alcohol! There could be poison in this as well and we wouldn’t be able to tell! 

“But then begs the question who? Who would purposely spike the punch for an executive meeting! I––” Rhys faltered when he noticed the shit-eating grin creeping across Jack’s smug face. 

“Oh my god. No–you–no. Don’t say it–please say sike right now–”

“Yeahhhp! That would be my very own genius doing!” Jack chuckled, grinning up at Rhys. He was clearly very pleased with himself. Rhys did not share in his amusement.

“You. You are a fucking idiot,” Rhys hissed, glaring at him. All this time. All this time Rhys had been worried. Jesus, he shouldn’t even bother anymore. 

Jack’s whole demeanor suddenly shifted. It was instant, like the flip of a coin.

“Hey, watch your tone,” he demanded, a freezing edge creeping into his voice.

Rhys was suddenly overcome by a bout of frustration. God, he’d been worrying over nothing. NOTHING! To top it off, this whole situation was actually Jack’s own fault! He pushed a metal finger to Jack’s chest. 

“No! You are so fucking dumb. I was worried! But all this time it was just you and your–” 

Rhys froze mid-sentence. A very familiar sensation pressed against his forehead. It was a very similar feel to something Jack had done on their very first meeting long ago. 

Rhys’s eyebrows raised, nearing his hairline. One of Jack’s many pistols was jammed up against his forehead. Maybe it was because Rhys wasn’t quite thinking straight but strangely enough, not an ounce of fear dwelled in his veins at the notion of a gun barrel pressed against his temple. 

“Why do I let you treat me this way? You should be fuckin’ dead by now,” Jack snarled. His eyes were slits. 

Rhys gave a half-witted lopsided smile. 

“I don’t know, Jack. I don’t know you,” he said softly, staring back into Jack’s gaze, unblinking. Jack lowered the gun and glared down at the pistol in his hand. He gave it a long hard look. Sighing, he spun it a couple times, tossing it with his hand as the rotary snapped shut. Rhys studied Jack’s expression. It was unreadable, like a blank page. 

“It’s been a decade or two since I’ve seen someone sp bravely stupid enough to stand up to me, let alone ever see someone take a bullet for me. You keep shit interesting, Rhys. You’re always a surprise,” Jack answered his own question, flipping the pistol in his hands. Rhys gulped. Shit, was that really what Jack thought of him? _ Jack _ had been keeping _ Rhys _ on his toes all this time, was it really truly the opposite? 

Rhys blinked slowly.

“I–”

Jack pointed the pistol at him. 

“–ll shut up now. Wow! Thanks, sugar!” Jack interjected, finishing Rhys’s sentence. Rhys gave a slight frown. 

Jack sighed and tucked his pistol under his jacket. His eyes strayed to Rhys’s bandaged arm. He threw up a hand in exasperation. 

“–And would ya stop taking bullets for me? I’m Handsome freakin’ Jack, I’ve been shot wayyyy more than you think. Taking bullets is not part of your friggin’ job description, dumbass,” Jack scolded him. Rhys could do nothing but stand there and shrug. 

“Speaking of, why _ do _ you keep getting shot for me? It was funny the first time–not gonna lie–but now it’s not, jokes over. Quit the act,” he scowled. 

“But answer my question first,” Jack backtracked, waving a hand. 

Rhys rubbed the back of his neck unconsciously. Jack wanted to know why Rhys kept taking bullets? Well...

“It’s because I’m loyal to the company. I’m more loyal to you now though because of the whole PA thing…” he admitted abashedly. He cautiously studied Jack’s reaction. Behind his trademark grin, his eyes were blank and betrayed no hint of emotion. 

Finding no answers in Jack’s mask, Rhys’s gaze strayed to his clothes. Jack was still soaked in blood. His hair was a disheveled mess, and stray strands hung down into his eyes. Tufts stuck up in different directions from the side. Rhys found it strangely amusing and weirdly pretty at the same time.

Since Jack was offering no other questions or answers at the time, Rhys swung his arms awkwardly with nothing left to do. 

“All right...well…I–I think I’d better get going back home,” he muttered quietly. A heavy weight pressed down onto his chest. It began to creep up to his head. Suddenly, the whole room’s vibe shifted to an awkward tension. The conversation had turned down a rather disheartening uncomfortable path. 

_ I guess I fucked up again. _Rhys thought to himself, rubbing his faux arm in discomfort. He was not prepared for this sort of conversation to roll around, especially with both of them drunk. Then suddenly Jack chuckled, breaking the silence. 

“Whew! Good to know you’re loyal, I never would have guessed,” Jack clapped, sarcasm running heavy in his tone.

Rhys turned, the empty feeling in his chest growing wider. Why was he feeling this way?

“I’m headed home. I’ll see you tomorrow, good night,” Rhys said with a much heavier finality than he intended. His voice was dead flat. He shoved his hands in his pockets. 

His mind had already jumped to another issue at hand. What on earth would he say to Vaughn? He’d have to go through the whole PA explanation and it was much too late in the night for Rhys to do that properly. 

The couch springs creaked as Jack hoisted himself onto his feet. 

“Hey, you’re not going anywhere,” he called out from behind Rhys. Rhys turned, eyelids heavy. He was tired. He didn’t want to argue with Jack, he just wanted to go home. 

“Why not?”

“It’s late. There's super scary dangerous assassins running around. Maybe. Just crash here for the night,” Jack gestured vaguely. Rhys sighed. 

“You’re not going to let me leave, even if I say no are you?” 

“Yeahhhhhh, y'know me too well,” Jack smiled. He stifled a yawn, scratching the edge of his pale mask. 

“Take the couch. Jus’ ask AGIS for anything you need,” Jack vaguely gestured about the room yet again. 

“AGIS?” Rhys questioned. 

“‘S the defense system AI. She can get you spare clothes, looks like you need it,” Jack raised an eyebrow. Rhys sighed. The AI would be another obstacle in his quest to escape Jack’s penthouse. 

“Right...well...um...let me know if you need anything...I guess I’ll just...sleep here…” Rhys offered tentatively, Jack rubbed his eyes. 

“Yeahg–just try and refrain from shooting my handsome ass while I get my beauty rest, k?” 

Rhys glanced at the guns on the coffee table and then back at Jack. Was he really this trusting already or was he just drunk?

“See ya in the mornin’. Night, princess,” Jack brushed past him and disappeared into the neighboring hallway. Rhys stood frozen for a few moments, staring at the space where Jack disappeared. He was pretty sure his brain was short circuiting to be honest. 

After a second, he snapped out of his stupor and looked up at the ceiling. 

“Excuse me? Uh...AGIS?”

“Yes?” A cool female voice materialized. 

“Could I get a replacement for my shirt? Also some spare clothes of...whatever you have?”

“Yep. One moment.”

Rhys waited for no more than maybe...two minutes? When the elevator doors slid open, revealing a neat folded stack of clothing. Rhys cautiously poked his head in, and gathered up the garments in his hands. In his pile it contained a replacement for his current shirt as well as one of the very high quality Hyperion sweaters and a pair of sweatpants with the Hyperion logo printed all over. 

Pleased with his findings, Rhys ambled over to the couch and fell face first into the pillow. He tossed the new clothes onto the table. Drowsiness crashed over him in a tidal wave and he suddenly couldn’t move anymore. The lights of the room glared into his eyes. 

“AGIS? Could you dim the lights?” He requested. On queue the light’s harsh edge softened to nothing more than a bare luminescent golden glow. 

“Thanks.”

Rhys buried his head in one of the couch pillows. He clenched his eyes shut and promptly passed out. 

————--

Rhys blearily woke. His vision flickered awake and he blinked, focusing on the strange ceiling above him. Sudden panic flooded through him and he scrambled upright. Where was he? He glanced to his left, looking out the massive window into space. His muscles relaxed as he realized his location. Right. He was in Jack’s penthouse. 

Quietly sitting up, a blue analog clock flickered across his ECHOeye vision. Four in the morning. Sleepily, Rhys strained to remember what grand plan he had that night. Urgh...what was it? Oh! Yeah! Getting back to his own apartment! Rhys cautiously glanced around. Well...Jack was still asleep so Rhys had an opportunity to sneak out. 

Something about the bay window nagged at his thoughts. His gaze was drawn to it, like a magnet. He frowned, straining to remember something buried in the back of his thoughts. A phantom pain throbbed in the side of his stomach and the hazy memories all came crashing back to him.

When he’d been shot, Jack took him back to Helios. He’d brought him...he’d brought him here, to his penthouse. He vaguely remembered Jack looming over him, a red glowing needle in hand. A hypo. Those were rare, due to their complexity and difficulty to make. Jack must have a stash somewhere in his penthouse...that must have been why he’d brought Rhys up here. 

Rhys was incredibly grateful for Jack saving him...I mean he wouldn’t be alive at this very moment if Jack hadn’t healed him. 

The darkness in the apartment was no issue for Rhys. His ECHOeye helpfully switched to night-vision. He gathered up the clothes on the coffee table and tip-toed to the elevator. Jack was definitely still asleep, and Rhys preferred it stay that way. 

Examining the elevator he frowned. There was no control panel or buttons indicating the way down. He glanced around. Seemed like the AI was his ticket out of here. Well shit. He licked his lips nervously and glanced up. 

“Hey AGIS?” He whispered. The disembodied voice materialized, imitating his whisper. 

“What?”

Rhys breathed a sigh of relief. Thank god the thing was quiet. 

“Um...I’d like to use the elevator. Can you let me down?”

“Hmmm. I am not sure Handsome Jack has permitted that.”

Rhys cursed. 

“Well…I just need to get home. Please? Could you just do me a favor?” Rhys pleaded. He didn’t expect the AI to listen to him. Rhys already had dreaded thoughts running through his mind. He’d have to stay and deal with sober Jack in the morning _ in Handsome Jack’s penthouse _. Sober Jack might not even want him here, and Rhys did NOT want to deal with that. 

“You seem distressed. I will allow it.”

The elevator doors silently slid open. Rhys blinked in surprise. It seemed like this AI had some sort of built in empathy. Strange for an AI belonging to a complete maniac. 

“Uh...thank you, thank you very much,” he whispered at the ceiling. 

“You are welcome.”

Rhys stepped inside the elevator and turned. The doors slid closed and the view of the apartment disappeared. The floor jolted and Rhys breathed a sigh of relief and sagged against the railing. 

He was headed home. 

————--

During his lovely 4am stroll through Helios, Rhys kept his head down as he walked through the near-empty hallways. Not as many employees worked during the night but he didn’t want anyone approaching him. He was too fried. 

Rhys swiped his keycard through his door’s scanner and pushed down on the handle, entering the apartment. It was dark, the lights had been put out. Rhys had no problem navigating through the room using his ECHOeye night-vision. He quietly tiptoed across the floor and through the kitchen to his bedroom door. In curiosity and worry, he glanced over at Vaughn’s. It was cracked open. Rhys curiously peeked in, just checking to see if Vaughn was asleep. 

Undignifiyingly sprawled face down across his sheets was most definitely his roomate. Good. Vaughn had made it home safe. Rhys silently closed the door and turned into his own room. He tossed his clothes over the back of his chair. Catching sight of his appearance in the mirror he did a double take at the state of his reflection. 

Oh man he looked like shit. Sometimes he absolutely despised being a lightweight. 

Kicking off his shoes, he wrestled off his tie and stepped out of his vest. Peeling off his blue collared shirt he threw it to the floor. A large portion of the sleeve had been burned away where the bullet grazed him. He examined his bare chest. A couple of bruises littered his body, but they weren’t too bad. His left arm was bandaged, a faint stain of blood seeping through. 

He threw on the pair of sweatpants AGIS had given him and the (rather comfortable) oversized yellow Hyperion sweatshirt before falling onto his bed with a faint thump. He was out within seconds, snoring peacefully back in his own home. 

—————-

Two hours. Rhys got a total of two hours sleeping in his own bed. Right on schedule, he woke at 6am. Yawning, he slipped out of bed and stretched, the previous events from the night before slowing dawning on him. Oh man, it had been a wild night. 

With a horrid case of bed head, Rhys staggered out into the kitchen, not bothered to dress himself. Rubbing his ECHOeye, he looked around at the kitchen. Vaughn didn’t appear to be up yet. Shrugging, Rhys ambled over to the stove, turning up the heat and setting out a frying pan to begin cooking breakfast for both him and Vaughn. 

Rhys figured whipping up some breakfast for Vaughn would be the kindest thing to do for his poor soul. Seeing Rhys and meeting Jack at the meeting the previous night had given Vaughn quite the fright. 

Stirring the eggs in the pan with a spatula, Rhys sighed, thinking about what would happen later in the day. What in hell was he going to say to Jack? Would he even bring Jack coffee that morning? 

The floorboard let out a squeak behind Rhys, giving away Vaughn’s position. Rhys turned. Vaughn stood in his doorway, tiredly. Mid-yawn he froze, staring at Rhys. Rhys stared back. Who cared what he’d say to Jack. What the fuck was he going to tell Vaughn?

Suddenly, Vaughn whipped out a glock. 

“Who are you! What have you done with Rhys?” He yelled, eyes wide. Rhys yelped and dropped the spatula. 

“Woah! Woah! Bro put the gun down! It’s me!” Rhys yelled throwing his hands up in confused surrender. Vaughn’s eyes narrowed. 

“How can I be sure?”

Rhys’s mind raced. He––what?

“Dude what are you talking about? It’s me. I’m making eggs, what are you on?” He asked bewildered, hands hovering by his head.

“You’re some weird clone made by Handsome Jack aren’t you! Last night, I saw you, not the real Rhys, YOU at an executive party, with Handsome FUCKING Jack!” Vaughn’s voice rang out in a high pitch. 

Ah, now Vaughn’s outcry made more sense. He was a bit delirious.

The gun clenched in his fingers gave a click. It was loaded. 

“PUT THE FUCKING GUN DOWN VAUGHN!” Rhys shouted, a tang of fear in his tone. 

“I’M NOT A FUCKING CLONE. WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?”

“PROVE IT!” Vaughn stubbornly retorted, glaring at him with suspicion. Rhys’s mind raced to come up with a solution. Uh..uh…

“I don’t know! Just-Just ask me a question!” Rhys spat out. Vaughn visibly paused for a moment and Rhys could practically see the gears turning in his head. 

“If you’re a clone, that means Rhys is dead. Do I get your sock collection then?” Vaughn asked, eyes narrowing. 

“No! How many times do I have to tell you, idiot! You do NOT get my sock collection, it gets buried _ with _ me!” Rhys instinctively retorted. He was furious. He’d told Vaughn SO MANY times, that the sock collection was off limits when he died but he still NEVER listen–...oh. 

Vaughn lowered the gun. 

“Alright, I believe it’s you. Uh...sorry about...that,” Vaughn muttered sheepishly, tossing the weapon back in his room. Rhys let out a sigh of relief and retrieved the spatula from the floor. 

“I’m just trying to make breakfast,” he let out an exasperated exhale. Rhys poked the eggs again. They seemed to be just about ready. As Rhys fetched a couple plates, Vaughn eyed him with a trace of suspicion. He sat at the counter, arms folded on the table. As Rhys plated the eggs, Vaughn clutched a glass of milk. 

“Okay bro. Tell the truth. What the FUCK is going on around here!?––And WHERE did you get that sweatshirt?” 

As Rhys slid onto the stool across from his roommate, he passed a plate of food to Vaughn. He began a shortened explanation of the whole story, trying to keep out unnecessary confusing details and certain things he wished to keep private. Like Rhys and Jack’s little trip to Pandora, or the weirdly flattering compliments Jack gives him. 

The shortened version of the story went a little like this:

Rhys did a cool and epic job on his weapon designs. Jack liked them. For some reasons unknown, Jack decided he wanted Rhys to be his PA (presumably because he did a good job on the weapons blueprints?) Rhys brings Jack coffee in the mornings, reports in the evenings and just recently has been attending meetings and working afternoons in the big man's office. 

Rhys was sure to leave out the visit to pandora and his drunken diversion to Jack’s penthouse.

It was an acceptable abridged version of the truth. 

When Rhys finished, Vaughn gaped at him in pure astonishment. 

“My god, I had no idea...But...can I ask you something…?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you sure you aren’t in any danger?”

Rhys sighed and gave Vaughn a calm smile. 

“I’m fine. Everything is fine,” Rhys hid behind his teeth.

No?? Everything was not fucking fine??? Rhys had just been up in Handsome Jack’s penthouse?? Drunk???

Vaughn squinted at him, giving him a suspicious look. The room suddenly began to feel hot and Rhys blinked nervously. Did Vaughn not believe his story? Oh no.

“Are you sure…? Handsome Jack isn't ...blackmailing you or...doing anything…” Vaughn paused for a moment. 

“Uh...weird...to you?” He coughed to further make his point. Rhys breathed a sigh of relief. Thank god Vaughn believed his story. 

“What? No! God no! Jesus, no! Look. Everything is fine. I’m really good at my job, so Ja–Handsome Jack is fine with me sticking around.”

Vaughn studied him with a disbelieving look. Rhys’s shoulders bristled. 

“I’m serious! I–”

Rhys’s indignance was interrupted by a buzzing sound vibrating the table. Both him and Vaughn turned to look at the ECHOpad on the end of the counter. Rhys had haphazardly left it there during his pitch-black morning entrance.

Rhys reached over but Vaughn beat him to it. 

“Give it! It could be important!” Rhys protested, batting at him. Vaughn evaded Rhys’s hands. Disbelief flickered across Vaughn’s features as he looked down at the screen. His eyebrows almost disappeared into his hair. 

“Handsome _ Jackass? _ Handsome _ Jackass????? _ Rhys! What kind of relationship do you have with Handsome _ fucking _ Jack that allows you to set his name in your ECHOpad as Handsome _ Jackass?” _

“I–”

“RHYS STRONGFORK. AS YOUR BRO, I AM TELLING YOU NOW OUT OF THE GOODNESS OF MY HEART.”

Vaughn took a deep inhale and opened his eyes. 

“You’re going to fucking die,” he observed with a calm voice. His expression said otherwise. He looked as though he teetered on the verge of insanity. 

“Dude, I’m fine. Seriously. I’m his personal assistant so I get special perks I guess...you know?” Rhys answered, snatching his ECHOpad out of Vaughn’s grip who was too dumbfounded to resist. Rhys stood, holding up one finger to Vaughn, quieting him. 

“I’m taking the call. Shush.”

Jack’s voice rang in his ear. It sounds a bit rougher than usual. 

“Heya, kitten! Glad to hear you’re awake. You ran away before I got up, what’s up with that?” Jack asked, annoyance creeping in his coarse tone. 

“I had stuff to take care of, sorry,” Rhys shrugged.

“More important than me?”

“Yeah. I have a life.”

“No you don’t! And don’t even try to convince me otherwise, pumpkin. I know a loser when I see one. They have this certain–” Jack broke off with a little noise of thought. 

“–feel to them. They’re very loser-ish.”

Rhys pinched the bridge of his nose. Jack literally had the insult vocabulary of a six-year-old.

“Well, congrats Rhysie, cause today you’re gonna get a taste of what having a life is like.”

Rhys rubbed his forehead. 

“What impossible task are you going to assign me as punishment?” He muttered dejectedly. Vaughn stared at him, wide-eyed and mouthed something. Rhys shook his head and blocked him out. 

“Punishment? And here I thought you’d be jumping all over the idea like a springing skag!”

Rhys did feel a little bit of surprise at Jack’s response. So...Jack wasn’t angry for whatever happened the night before?

“Right...okay. Uh...by chance...are you feeling okay?” Rhys asked, just to make sure. No punishment sounded un-Jack-like and besides, Jack sounded different this morning, with both voice and words. 

“Never been better, pumpkin! Except I feel like skag shit. Alcohol is like a hooker. It’s great fun, the best thing you’ve ever had! Until the morning after.”

Eurghg. Rhys very much did NOT need that metaphor. 

“I take it you’re not going to be in the office today…?” Rhys assumed. He could barely believe his ears. By the sounds of it, Handsome Jack was hungover.

“Nope. I want you in there today,” Jack dropped on him. Rhys stood dumbfounded for second. He could imagine Jack grinning at his stunned silence on the other end of the ECHO. 

“Me? Are you sure? I’m a loser. I’ll fuck it all up,” he remarked drily. 

“Well you won’t be a loser for today! Sound good?”

“Yeah...yeah...uh...are there any rules I should know about?”

“Naw. Just try to act as Handsome-Jackish as you can and you’ll be fine,” Jack assured him. Rhys was far from assured. Panic flooded into his system. Jack was trusting him with running the whole show. This was a huge responsibility that he’d just dumped on Rhys so easily. 

It showed just how much Jack trusted him. Rhys drummed his metallic fingers on his pant leg. If he fucked anything––ANYTHING up, Jack would immediately lose all previous trust in him. Jack would definitely kill him.

“I can’t wait. I’ll be up to the office by 7, you can count on me,” Rhys attempted to sound optimistic. Jack chuckled hoarsely. 

“And somehow I believe that. K, see ya around, sugar.”

The line beeped. Rhys looked up at Vaughn who observed him with a quizzical expression. 

“So...what did he say?”

Rhys gave a wide grin and shaky thumbs up. 

“I get to run the company for a day.”

Vaughn blinked, mouth hanging open. He smacked his forehead. 

“I’m dreaming right now, aren’t I?”

Rhys exhaled. 

“Nope. I better get dressed, important day today!” He announced, violently forcing optimism into his tone leaving his voice several octaves higher. Rhys left his plate of half-eaten eggs on the table and disappeared into his room. Vaughn stared dumbfounded after him. 

“You’re just going to leave me at that?” He protested, spreading his hands. 

––––––––––

Rhys dressed himself and showered in record speed. He emerged, smoothing his hair down with several dabs of gel. He was clad in his fancier outfit today (except a white collared shirt rather than blue. He’d ask Jack for a blue replacement later.). It was only fitting. He tucked his ECHOpad into his back pocket and gave Vaughn a final grin. 

“Well! I gotta go! See you around, bro,” Rhys waved cheerfully. A little too cheerfully. He masked the tremor of anxiety in his voice with a bit of forced fun.

“Hey! Wait! You can’t just drop this news on me and leave!”

“Sorry! Got to go! Important acting CEO stuff! Bye!” Rhys grinned as he called from the hallway, shutting the door behind him. He puffed out his chest, feeling the bounce in his steps a bit more that morning as he made his way to the twenty-second floor. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Its almost christmas vacation! I'll be on break in two days so possible quicker updates for like a week or two? Not sure, but cheers! I finished the rough draft of chapter 26 so only ten more chapters till I finish!


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rhys actually does an epic job but doesnt know how to measure his self worth its ok tho cuz me too

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry crisis an happy holidays

A slight detour was made on Rhys’s route to Jack’s office that morning. Partially out of habit, he stopped on the fourth floor to obtain Jack’s coffee just like any other day. 

Drink in hand, Rhys continued his journey to the twenty-second floor. Today however, he had a different poise about him. His entire demeanor had undergone a slight shift seemingly overnight. He stood taller, straighter. He regarded others with a more haughty sense of pride. 

He walked in a straight line directly to the sliding doors at the end of the hallway emblazoned with the golden H. 

Meg let him through without a pre-inquiry.

Stepping in, he turned towards her desk and raised a hand in a friendly wave. Noticing his presence, she glanced up and brightened. 

“Hey! How have you been? I haven’t talked to you in a while. You just hurry on past here all serious,” her eyebrows were downturned slightly. Her face then cleared and she gestured to the inner door leading to the office. 

“Although, Jack is a lot of work, so I completely understand,” she gazed at him with empathy. Rhys chuckled and relaxed, exhaling a breath he didn’t know he’d been keeping. 

“Yeah, he is. I’ve been holding up well though. How have you been?”

Meg spun the ring on her finger and waggled her eyebrows. 

“Better since marriage. Y’Know, before I met my future wife–well, she’s now currently my wife–I was kind of lost. Don’t get me wrong, I was functional and living my best life but it didn’t feel like my full potential...you know?” 

Rhys nodded. To his surprise, it seemed like her words were striking a chord with him. Was he like that? Was he functional but not to his full potential? Was he really lacking something–or someone? He had to admit, Meg did seem brighter and more full the past week or so. 

“Yeah I understand. Personally, I don’t think I need anyone right now but I’m very glad to hear that it’s working out well for you!” Rhys beamed brightly.

“Thanks for the advice.”

Meg laughed. 

“That’s when they hit you. Right when you least expect it, or when you aren’t looking for someone. Anyways! Sorry for hitting you right off the bat in the morning with my own sappy love stories and wisdom that probably isn’t accurate,” Meg gave an apologetic smile. Rhys chuckled. 

“No no! It’s fine, I’d better get to work though…”

“Oh! Right! Jack hasn’t arrived yet. I haven’t heard from him this morning. Usually he just yells at me through to the door asking me to recite the schedule for the day. I don’t know why he doesn’t just call me in, but that’s Handsome Jack for ya. Works in mysterious ways. I wish I had the guts to ask why...” Meg sighed, wringing her head.

Rhys waved a hand. 

“He’s not coming today. I’m taking his place. He’s…uh...we were at the executive party last night and he may have had one too many drinks–or more like a dozen too many drinks–so...he’s put me in charge for the day,” he explained quickly. Meg’s eyes widened. 

“Well that sounds like an exciting story. Glad you survived. You must be one special man because Jack hasn’t taken a sick day in…” Meg ducked behind her desk for a moment. Rhys heard a filing cabinet open. She popped back up again. 

“The previous secretary kept a date. Apparently they REALLY enjoyed this particular day. The one date, in the past three years Jack has taken a sick day,” Meg remarked. She looked up at Rhys. 

“Damn, I’m impressed. A lot has changed since you’ve come around. Now Jack is taking sick days and you’re in charge? You’re either poisoning him or you must have some charm that he likes,” she decided, weighing the odds and chewing a nail in thought. 

“Oh god no–no I’m loyal to Hyperion I would never–no. Definitely the latter of those two options,” Rhys stammered, letting out a small laugh.

“Yeah you don’t really seem to the poison type honestly. Well no matter. You’re here now so I’ll give you a brief run down. Basically, if people arrive at the door, I’ll let you know beforehand when I’m sending them in. Oh–!” Meg broke off peeling a sticky note from one of her numerous stacks plastered about her desk and monitor. She handed it to him. 

“This is your schedule. Don’t worry about the time, I’ll yell through the door at you when your meeting times or phone calls are due,” she said brightly, giving him a thumbs up. Rhys glanced down at the note. Two meetings, six phone calls and four potential staff members visiting with blueprints.

“Is that it?” Rhys asked. Meg tapped her chin. 

“Pretty much. Well, that sticky note only has the times for the pre-scheduled stuff. Some unplanned people or calls might pop up too...but don’t stress! Once you get into the swing of things, it all gets good and you have fun!” She grinned, radiating an optimistic vibe. 

Rhys appreciated it. He needed some good optimism in his life right now. 

“Alright, I’d better get started. Let me know if there's anything else!” He smiled. Meg pushed the sliding door buttons and Rhys stepped inside the office. 

————--

It was a strange thing, emptiness. As Rhys stood in the center of the floor, he glanced around the massive empty office. The whole vibe in the room was drastically different than any other day Rhys had been in.

Something was missing. A crucial piece of the Hyperion puzzle. 

Jack wasn’t present. It turned out, the CEO had such a massive heavy presence that a huge cluttered room such as this felt dead empty during his absence. 

Rhys strode over to the red elevator doors on the far side of the office, still holding Jack’s coffee in his metal arm. He glanced up at the ceiling, wondering what to do. 

“Hey...AGIS?” He asked cautiously. The little disembodied voice popped into hearing range. 

“Hello, Rhys!”

“Hi, uh I have coffee here for Jack, can I just put it in the elevator and send it up?”

“Sure thing!” 

“Ok, one minute.”

Rhys ambled over to the desk, peeling off a sticky note and scribbling a message onto the paper. He stuck it firmly to the cup’s side and returned to the elevator doors, which were now wide open. He placed the coffee inside onto the elevator floor and stepped back, watching the doors close. 

He thanked the AI and turned to take his place in the big yellow chair behind Handsome Jack’s desk. Rhys’s desk now, temporarily. It was an incredibly outlandish thought, sitting in Handsome Jack’s special chair. Rhys could barely believe it himself. He gingerly sat, feeling the smooth metal in under his palms and observed the office below him. It was very strange, looking down and seeing things from this perspective. Jack’s perspective.

Across Handsome Jack’s desk were several contracts, pointlessly scribbled on with jagged lines. Jack’s work. 

Tuning on his ECHOeye, Rhys squinted at the desk. With the help of his eye, he picked up faint outlines of a holographic screen before him hovering just a few inches off the table surface. Anyone equipped with a standard set of human eyes would be unable to pick out the faint blue lines from the foreground, but it was an easy task for Rhys’s cybernetics. 

He lifted his fingers and flicked the air where the screen should be located. He nearly jumped as a blue holographic screen popped forwards, startling him. 

“Woah,” Rhys’s eyes widened. The screen blinked up at him. 

_ PLEASE STATE YOUR IDENTIFICATION. _

Rhys scratched his neck and gave it a shot.

“Handsome Jack?”

_ WRONG. IMPERSONATING OTHERS ISN'T CUTE OR MORALLY JUST. TRY AGAIN. _Flashed across the screen.

Impersonating was fucking what now?? Was this simple line of authorization code _ sassing _him? Rhys scowled at the red letters splayed across the screen. 

“Do you want my name?” He asked the console. 

_ YEAH DUM–DUM. _

Rhys wondered who engineered this fucker. Judging by its attitude, most likely Jack himself. 

“Uh...Rhys Strongfork.”

…._ AUTHORIZATION PROCESSING…. _

_ AUTHORIZATION ACCEPTED. _

Phew. He watched as the holographic panel unfolded to its true potential. A slow trickle of excitement pulsed through his eager fingers.

So many symbols and signs splayed out before him. Dozens maybe? Hundreds? The majority of the hodgepodge appeared to be charts and statistics of current weapons productions, the percentage of eridium mines currently active and many other statistics that Rhys skimmed over. 

One large portion of the screen was taken up by a section with the clean white label at the top, “Bandit-fucker”.

Ah. That must be the moonshot. Jack had a real creative side when it came to names, didn’t he? 

Accompanying the page deemed: “Bandit-fucker” were a series of 2D sliders and knobs indicating various power levels and coordinates. A big red button in the center was labeled simply as: Boom. 

Very cool, Jack. Very cool. 

Rhys decided it would be in his best interest and in everybody’s best interest really, that he left that portion of the screen alone. Flicking a cybernetic hand over the system, the screens collapsed and reverted back to their invisible state. Better safe than sorry. 

He sat back in Jack’s chair and looked about. Well...there wasn’t any work for him to do yet…

His eyes strayed to a small shape on Jack’s desk. Rhys sat forwards in interest, studying the golden-outlined picture frame resting near a small moss plant stationed by Jack’s papers. 

It depicted a young girl grinning toothily at the camera. Couldn’t be more than seven or eight. She had bright silver blue eyes. A crop of shining black hair tumbled around her shoulders. Her gaze was filled with excitement as she beamed at the photographer in a bright blue Hyperion sweater. 

Who…?

This was an enigma to Rhys. He sat puzzling for a few moments, staring quizzically at the girl in the photo. Who was she? Why did Jack have a picture of her? She looked young but something about those cheekbones of hers seemed awfully familiar. 

Rhys had heard vague whisperings about a ghost child of Handsome Jack’s. No one had ever seen her and if Jack caught wind of anyone murming a single word in reference they’d disappear the next day. Their body would join the ranks of others unfortunate enough to fall under Jack’s wrath and be thrown out of the airlock. 

But if Jack had fought to keep her a secret for so long...why did he just have this portrait of her on his desk? It was a dead giveaway and an obvious security risk. I

It dawned on Rhys that it was about perspective. Nobody ever, _ ever _ sat on this side of the desk. Only Jack. And today Rhys was the only exception. It showed just how far Jack’s trust reached at the moment. 

Rhys would just have to ask Jack about his daughter face-to-face, although Rhys was skeptical Jack would divulge any information on her of the sort. 

Just then, his ECHOpad gave a loud chirp in his back pocket. Rhys pulled it out.

_ thank s for the coffee i hope ur having fun :) _

Once again, the little emoticon held the vague notions of a threat. Well, most likely there was no threat, it was just a little unnerving having Jack text him emoticons with no vocal cues. (Then again even with vocal cues Jack was unpredictable as hell.)

Rhys tossed the ECHOpad on his desk and straightened up, taking a deep breath. Jack was counting on him. He checked the time and then glanced at the sticky note of persons scheduled to see him. Someone was scheduled to arrive in ten minutes. Great. It was going to be a wonderful day. 

————--

Wow. Being CEO was a lot harder than Rhys thought to begin with. He was supposed to go through files...on TOP of sending emails and replies to various departments and employees? Hey at least the company emails were simple. 

Yeah yeah...maybe he shouldn’t have...but Rhys was curious. He dug around in the ‘sent history’ portion of the email screens. Actually he was looking for some precedent on what format he should be using to send replies and notices out to various departments. 

What he discovered lurking in the email history was an utter mess. Rhys was a rather low rank in his department so he received the company wide emails from Jack maybe...once every six months? In short, Rhys had no idea what to expect in Jack’s email files. 

Most of Jack’s company emails were awful. Full of incorrect grammar and usage. Pounds of spelling mistakes. For a moment, Rhys genuinely entertained the thought of Jack being illiterate as fuck. Upon further digging, it turned out Jack gained scholarly literacy and writing skills when sending out elaborate death threats or ...yeah it was mostly just death threats. 

As Rhys scrolled back farther, he found a couple amusing threads from past replies. It was clear, most employees were exasperated by Jack’s horrid email behavior but only a handful dared to write back complaints about his ‘unprofessionalism’ or rants about how just plain fed up they were trying to decipher what they’d received. Jack would then respond with further broken English which succeeded in pissing them off even more.

Then, Jack would fuck around until he (presumably) got bored. At the end of each thread was an elaborate, scholarly death threat entailing _ exactly _ what Jack was going to do with the person on the other side of the screen. Lot’s of gorey details. Rhys skipped through the unpleasantry words.

Quite notably there were never any replies after Jack’s final message consisting of a threatening essay an AP English teacher would be proud of. Most likely they’d died exactly how Jack entailed it. 

Fascinating stuff, really. 

————--

Meg was an exceptionally good secretary. She occasionally chatted with Rhys over intercom and let him know when meetings or people were scheduled. 

The employees that entered Jack’s office were ashen-faced. Rhys could practically see them trembling. Meg did not inform them Jack was out. 

Expecting the big bad scary Jack, they often did a double take at Rhys’s smaller, less intimidating vibe, just chillin behind the desk. None dared to ask where Jack was. At the very least they had enough common sense for that. 

They’d cautiously approach, handing Rhys reports and statistics. Only one person throughout the day brought blueprints. The other three scheduled just flat out didn’t show up.

The only blueprint–engineer entered the office. Rhys studied the girl’s blueprints long and hard. She was quite young, seventeen or eighteen. Definitely an intern. Fear was written all over her expression. Her blueprints entailed some improvements and fixes to past pistol designs.

Huh, she must be Henderson’s department.

Rhys tapped his chin in thought. The prints appeared to be well thought out. The girl had done an...okay job, there were still a fair few major flaws. 

He glanced down at her. She nervously fiddled her hands together, doing her best not to meet Rhys’s gaze. Rhys flipped the pages over, studying the envelope the blueprints were encased in. He frowned. 

The documents were...okay. They weren’t terrible but they weren’t tip-top perfect either. They had many flaws. In short, the blueprints were nowhere near ready to be seen by Handsome Jack himself. The girl was incredibly lucky Rhys was in the office that day, Jack may not have been quite as forgiving. 

“Are you from Henderson’s department?” Rhys questioned. 

“Yes, sir. My name is Lily Orsworth,” she replied hastily, still avoiding Rhys’s gaze. Rhys frowned. Nobody should have been sending up work this flawed to Handsome Jack. Who had approved this? And why?

“You said Henderson sent you directly?”

The girl shook her head. 

“No, not directly. Um...Hugo Vasquez said I could come up here...sir,” she replied timidly. Rhys scowled. Really? Why in hell was Vasquez trying to send an unprepared intern’s work to Handsome Jack? Was he intentionally setting her up for critical (possibly fatal) failure? Why?

Rhys came to the conclusion it was some deluded power move. Vasquez was trying to prove himself to…(Henderson maybe? Maybe even Jack? Rhys knew that Vasquez looked up to Jack as much as he did). 

Maybe Vasquez was trying to show whoever, that he was in charge and responsible and that he could make life-changing decisions for the employees under him?

_ Life-changing to termination, _Rhys thought darkly. 

Giving a kind smile, Rhys packed up the prints and handed them back to her. She took them with a nervous hand. 

“I’m sure you worked hard. There are still a few major flaws, including the coil in the barrel. It’s not positioned at the right angle, firing a bullet would set the whole thing on fire. I recommend revising these a bit more, you’re not ready to meet Handsome Jack, yet.”

Lily didn’t look too upset at this notion. In fact, relief flickered across her features and her shoulders sagged.

“Thank you, sir,” she replied courteously, a light returning to her eyes. Rhys could barely register that by ‘sir’ she was referring to him. He wasn’t really used to the whole fancy title thing yet. 

“You’re dismissed.”

She turned to leave. Rhys stared after her retreating form, frowning and drumming his metal fingers on the table. One last thing still didn’t sit right with him. Vasquez. 

“Hey! You said Vasquez sent you up?”

Lily turned and nodded. Rhys sat back in his chair and continued,

“He shouldn’t have. He should have known you weren’t ready. Tell you what. Next time he orders you to bring up blueprints you’re not finished with, just call him Wallethead. It's a special nickname, he can tell you how he got it. He’ll leave you alone after that,” Rhys called after her. A smile broke across her features and relief flooded her eyes. She raised her left hand and gave him a salute. A unique gesture of gratitude for sure. 

“Thank you, sir. I will.”

Rhys watched her disappear behind the sliding door. He felt a newfound sense of pride. Lower-ranking Hyperion employees looked up to him now. That profound sense of pride was a feeling that he couldn’t quite get enough of. 

_ I’m better than all of them. All of them. _His little voice crowed. And for the first time, Rhys let it. He wanted to enjoy this. 

————--

The meetings he attended were...interesting to say the least. Rhys had to introduce himself to a room full of skeptical executives, eyeing him like a pack of hungry wolves. 

Rhys got the feeling they wanted to eat him right up. He didn’t try to copy Jack’s style of speaking (quips, roasts, rude remarks and death threats) but he did bring out an inner layer of asshole. He made sure the people in the room knew EXACTLY who they were speaking to. Rhys may not have a maniacal side similar to that of Jack’s, but he sure could play the part of a hardass asshole businessman when needed. 

He had to at least credit Jack for bringing that out in him. 

—————- 

At the end of the day, Rhys sagged in the big yellow chair. He yawned, lazily stretching his legs and sinking down low to the point where he couldn't see over the desk top. Rubbing his eyes he heaved a massive sigh. Exhaustion rolled over him. Interacting with so many people, taking calls, taking visitors, the friggin meetings, shit. It really took a lot out of him. 

Negative thoughts followed the exhaustion. Doubt pricked at the base of his mind. What if he wasn’t cut out to be a CEO? That was his dream, his only goal. Today he’d gotten a good taste for what it was like. Did he really want this?

Rhys shook his head. No no, this was nothing like being a real CEO. He was a replacement, he’d just been thrown in unexpectedly. He hadn’t had any prior knowledge to how things ran before this day. 

His little excursion as CEO today was no good test to see if being a CEO was really the right career path. 

How did Jack manage it everyday? The condescending asshole executives, the arrogant messengers who brought statistics up to Jack’s office thinking they were hot shit…

Rhys frowned. Wait a minute. Didn’t he himself bring up statistics to Jack’s office all the time all while wearing an invisible crown of arrogance over others, prideful in something as little as statistic delivery? Rhys slapped a hand on his forehead with a loud smack. 

God was that how he really acted? Like a stuck up prick? Did people see him as a cooperate asshole? 

_ Wow, I am was a fucking hypocrite, huh? _He reprimanded himself. How in hell did Jack tolerate his arrogant behavior. Rhys sighed and threw up a hand. Welp! Another Jack mystery to add to the list….

————--

Meg briefly poked her head in the door to let Rhys know she was done for the evening. Rhys gave a tired wave and watched as the door slid closed behind her retreating back. 

He wasn’t sure what to do now that the day was over. He didn’t want to bother Jack since he wasn’t well...but he didn’t know how late Jack wanted him to stay. He cast a glance at those red elevator doors. He could just pop in on the elevator unannounced. That was always an available option.

No, that was a terrible dangerous intrusive thought. Sighing, Rhys swung to his feet and stretched.

_ Just give Jack a call...It really isn’t that hard. _

_ Yeah...but he could be angry… _

_ Ehh whatever. What’s the worst that could happen? _

Rhys picked up his ECHOpad off the desk. His metallic finger hovered over the screen. Yeah...giving Jack a call would be the best option. Maybe not the safest...but the best.

Pushing Jack’s contact, fondly titled _ Handsome Jackass _ Rhys held the receiver to his ear. 

“Oh hey, princess!” Jack’s chipper voice rang through. A rasp ghosted at the edges of his tone. 

“Hey.”

Rhys’s voice came out a lot more exhausted than he anticipated. 

“I was just going to text you but you called first. Was your day as fantastical as you hoped? Wait–don’t tell me yet. Come up to the penthouse, I have something for you. You can tell me about your magical day as the President of Hyperion too, it’s perfect,” Jack rambled out. Rhys just nodded tiredly. He knew Jack couldn’t see him but at this point he didn’t care.

“Sounds good. Oh! Also, are you feeling any bett–?” Rhys began. _ Click _. Jack had already hung up. Rhys shoved the ECHOpad into his back pocket with a new ferocity. Annoyance lingered in his mind. Apparently, Handsome Jack couldn’t wait two fucking seconds for Rhys to finish his goddamn sentence. 

He popped the metal finger joints in his hand. Exhaustion settled over his mind in a thin haze. Oh man, he was about to drop dead unconscious and on top of that he had to face Jack??? Amazing. Fantastic. What word had Jack used? Fantastical. 

Rhys shuffled over into the elevator. It had opened during the phonecall with Jack. Rhys hobbled in and leaned against the railing. What did Jack say again? He had something for Rhys? Shit, that could mean a lot of things. The most likely being something like: _ Boom, surprise! Shotgun to the face, baby because you did a terrible job today. _

Drumming his cybernetic fingers on the metal rail, a frown danced around the corners of his mouth. He’d done a fine job...right? This wasn’t Jack summoning him up just to throw Rhys out of the airlock. Right? 

He ran a hand through his hair. Jack had literally murdered all his past personal assistants. Rhys should be no different. It was only a matter of time. 

The elevator came to a smooth halt and the doors slid open exposing Rhys to the interior of Jack’s penthouse. Rhys took a shuddering breath. He hadn’t realized his heart pumping wildly. He stood straighter, and threw back his shoulders in order to calm his nerves. He was fine. Everything was all great. 

He poked his head out of the elevator cautiously. Jack sprawled across the couch taking up the entire length. His feet were upraised by the armrest. Arms behind his head, he tilted his head back in order to see who’d come through his doorway. In his vision, Rhys was upside down. 

Rhys cautiously approached. 

“Hey, you called?”

“That was all your idea, sweetheart,” Jack corrected. In one swift movement he was suddenly upright and standing with two feet on the floor. He moved forwards towards Rhys who was frozen solid. Jack clapped a hand on his flesh shoulder and Rhys gave a start of surprise. 

“So,” Jack began, leaning down in order to achieve eye-level with the shorter man. 

“How was your little taste of power?”

Rhys blinked, letting his words sink in. Jack was a little more into Rhys’s personal space than desirable. Don’t get him wrong, he certainly didn’t mind but it was quite a strange position for Rhys. 

“Well...uh...” Rhys licked his lips nervously. 

“Nice. It was nice,” he squeaked. Jack stepped back and threw up his hands in exasperation giving him the most incredulous look this galaxy had ever seen.

“Nice??? NICE? That’s it? You’re in charge of the biggest billion dollar company in the universe for a day and all you have to say is _ NICE???? _” Jack stared at him with wide eyes.

“Er...yep,” Rhys started.

“Was that not the right thing to say?”

“I was expecting an excessive amount of thank–yous at the least,” Jack squinted at him. Rhys took a deep inhale and exhaled, forcing a smile across his features.

“Thank you, Handsome Jack.”

“Are you sassing me, sugar?”

Rhys was exhausted from the days events. He had no energy left to to play dumb and pretty with Jack.

“Yes,” he deadpanned. Jack put his hands on his hips, looking affronted. 

“Well _ excuse me_, miss sassy princess. That’s not allowed. Only I’m allowed to do that,” Jack growled. 

Rhys couldn’t even formulate a response. He just stood dumbly in silence and raised an eyebrow. Jack sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. 

“I broke the Rhys machine,” he muttered sadly. Suddenly, he snapped his fingers and his face lit up. 

“Right! Speaking of Rhysie breaking, you have had a REAL annoying habit of getting shot lately. I have something that might fix that,” Jack scratched his head. He turned and picked up a small device off the coffee table. He offered it to Rhys, who tiredly accepted.

It was a shield device. It wasn’t too fancy looking, just plain old silver. An orange glow emanated from a small square in the center. 

“A shield huh? Thanks. To be honest, getting shot has been kinda painful,” Rhys admitted, turning over the rectangle in his hands. 

He looked up at Jack,

“Uh, does the orange glow mean anything?”

An orange signature usually meant fire. Since it was Handsome Jack giving this possibly dangerous device to him, Rhys wanted to make sure he knew exactly what it was. 

“Yeah. It’s a special shield. Just went into production and is a bitch to produce so I’m gonna cancel it soon. It’ll stop the bullets that hit ya from doing any real damage. There's some cool shiz that happens with the bullet gunpowder and yadda yadda nerd stuff but basically it burns the bad guys hands pret–ty badly,” Jack explained.

“Also try not to use it all the time. Its super dangerous so only put it on for missions or fights,” he suggested.

Rhys gazed at the small rectangle. This would make life a lot easier. 

“I didn’t realize Hyperion had this sort of technology,” Rhys studied the smooth silver shield in his hands. 

“Hell yeah it does! Only available for rich people though, money is everything.”

“Typical. Thank you, though, this’ll be nice,” Rhys expressed his gratitude. The gift may have been small but it meant a lot more since it came Jack. 

Jack reached for his belt and spun a pistol into his hands. 

“Okay cool, now put the shield on I wanna test it out,” he gave a cheerful grin and raised his eyebrows . 

“Hey woah woah now no! Getting shot again is not on my agenda today! No!” Rhys paled and stepped back nervously, waving his hands and shaking his head. Jack barked out a short laugh. 

“I’m kidding! I’m kidding. Jeeesus, can you take a joke?” He snorted, putting the gun back at his side. Rhys released a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. He cast his eyes anywhere but Jack. Jack’s gaze wracked up and down at his anxious form. The grin faded from his mask. 

“Why are you afraid? You know I’m not going to harm you...right?”

Rhys gave a nervous, unconvincing laugh. He forced himself to relax and shoved his hands in his pockets, pushing his shoulders down.

“Me? Scared? No I’m fine, seriously,” he did his best to appear casual but made out to be a superb unconvincing liar. 

“Hey, I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. I’m not gonna kill ya,” light amusement danced in Jack’s eyes. 

“Why would I waste a perfectly good PA? Besides…” the corners of his mouth curved upwards. 

“You and I are...tight. I don’t hurt my friends, Rhysie.”

Rhys blinked slowly, and cast his gaze up, meeting Jack’s gaze. The signature smirk returned to his features. 

_ I don’t hurt my friends. _Jack...Jack considered him a friend. 

_ You and I are...tight. _Rhys raised a hand and ran it through his hair unconsciously. Was he hearing right? Did Jack just say that? No, he must have heard wrong. Was this true? Did Jack really consider him a friend?

Did Rhys even consider Jack a friend?

Thoughts of their brief adventures, flickered through Rhys’s mind. They fought together down on the Pandora facility. Their afternoon banters in the office. The assassins at the executive meeting. Jack last night laughing and enjoying his drinks with Rhys by his side.

A peculiar feeling flooded through Rhys’s body. It was a warmth, flooding outwards from his chest and soaking his entire body, right down to the tips of his toes. It felt like a warm sun on a midsummer afternoon. 

With a weak hand, he stuffed the shield into his back pocket. He averted his gaze. 

“I...uh...I really…” Rhys let out a breath. 

“...Wasn’t expecting that,” he chuckled casting a small grin upwards. 

Jack laughed. 

“And I thought _ you _ were the one full of surprises! Hah! I guess this proves that I am, in fact, better than everyone at everything,” Jack grinned, pleased with himself. Rhys opened his mouth, trying to get his words out but his brain was scrambled. He couldn’t think of anything to say and for some reason he had no idea how to speak anymore. Jack noticed. He sighed. 

“Aaaaaaand I short-circuited his head port again. Earth to Rhysie??? Are you there? I’m glad we had a touchy-feely moment, that’s all good, feels grossly sappy but it’s late. I have work tomorrow again so...skidaddle skoo…”

Rhys’s feet were firmly planted on the floor. He tried to move, but he was frozen solid. 

“Wait, did I actually fry your head port? Seriously?” Jack grinned, studying him. He reached out a finger and experimentally poked him in the arm.

“That’s kind of awesome though,” he admitted. Rhys shook his head, snapping out of his stupor. 

“You wish. I’m fine. I–I uh...I’ll get going now,” he stuttered, forcing himself to move. It felt like cinderblocks were strapped to his feet as he turned and slowly walked to the elevator. 

“Good night!” Jack called cheerfully. Rhys turned,

“'Night!”

—————-

Down the hallway out of Jack’s office, Rhys couldn’t contain it anymore. He burst into a run and blew past several startled employees. He didn’t stop, and sprinted all the way back to his apartment, nearly kicking down the door. His chest felt like a balloon about to pop. He couldn’t keep the grin off his face. He was friends with Jack. Jack said they were tight! 

He startled Vaughn off the couch, who leapt to his feet at Rhys’s winded appearance. 

“Bro are you good? Oh shit! Right! You were in charge today! How was i–” Vaughn broke off as Rhys stumbled forwards.

“I’m...I’m fine...just really...tired,” Rhys sighed. Vaughn gazed at him with concern.   
  
“Did running the company for a day not go well or something?” 

“No it went great. Really well actually. I’m just more...emotionally winded,” Rhys explained moving towards the kitchen.   
  
“Didn’t realize I’d catch so many stupid feelings when I first started this stupid PA position,” Rhys grumbled. 

“It does sound kind of emotionally draining to be around Handsome Jack all the time,” Vaughn shrugged. At that moment Rhys came to the sad conclusion Vaughn would never understand. 

Rhys sighed and wrung his head in his hands. 

“Never–Nevermind. Forget I said anything. I’ll figure out my friggin’ feelings later. I’m just headed to bed,” Rhys swayed to his feat and disappeared into his bedroom. 

As he dressed himself for bed, his thoughts ran wildly. His emotions were all a jumbled incoherent mess. Because of the unique position Rhys was in, he couldn’t even confide or rely on friends to help him figure this out. 

He pushed the tangled mess of thoughts and feelings aside. He’d disentangle them another time. But even as he unhooked his arm and dimmed the lights for bed, that signature ghost of a grin slipped its way into Rhys’s head. He wrung his hands even further. God, he was hopeless. 


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Hi welcome to mcdonalds what can i get you"  
"One moonshot please"  
"sorry, moonshot machine broke"  
"ṵ̧͎ͅn̹͠d͖͇͢ͅe̷̘͉r̷͉̗̩̫ș͠t́a̢n̹͎̻͎d̩̤͙̜̗͇͝á͚̦̼b̸̰̤̰̯͔ͅͅl̸͚̪̦é͓̲̙͕̭ͅͅ ̗̖̪͔͎̳h̴̗̣̩̩a̷͖͙̣ͅve̷͇̫̹̬̘͕̮ ̡͉̰à̟̝̲̞ ͏n͏̝i̬͉͝c͝e̠̟͟ d̖̮̣̣̟̙͖͜a̬̩͠y͡"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Double update in 24 hours babey!! Sorry if there r any mistakes I edited an proofread this really late at night urgh

Jack had this annoying talent of completely forgetting about one on one conversations he’d had with Rhys. Rhys couldn’t help but notice, Jack  _ conveniently  _ couldn’t remember the discussions where he opened up to Rhys a teensy bit. In reality, he didn’t open up at all, but he’d let down the first barrier: a steel wall of humor and insults that protected his inner thoughts and feelings so well. 

A few days passed. Normality ensued. Rhys swung back into the rhythm of his work. He often found himself listening to Jack’s endless speeches and ranting and afternoon rants with ease. At first they’d been annoying but Rhys had grown to simply accept them. His tirades only managed to tick Rhys off...occasionally. 

One time. Only once, did Rhys let his frustration take over and come out in the form of shouting at Jack at the top of his lungs to, “Shut the FUCK up!” To which, Jack was not offended by Rhys’s violent outburst. Oh no, nothing of the sort. He began to talk  _ faster _ , this time directly to Rhys who clamped his hands over his ears and hit his head on his desk with a groan. 

On certain days, Rhys did pay attention to Jack and his different behaviors. One afternoon, Rhys arrived at the office to find Jack pacing back and forth across his room at record speed. He was gesturing wildly and speaking to himself. As Rhys approached, Jack turned and began to instead talk to Rhys.

Rumors of spies had been going around. Problem is, a lot of employees were accusing a lot of different people. 

Certain information was getting out that wasn’t incredibly crucial to a potential downfall of Hyperion, but it  _ was _ under at least one layer of security. Jack suspected multiple spies, there was no way one single person could be scurrying around collecting data across the whole Helios station. 

“Be on high alert. Suspect anyone. Even yourself,” he advised darkly. 

On top of the possible spy outbreak, Handsome Jack received news the Vault Hunters arrived in Sanctuary down on Pandora. This threw him in a tizzy.

Rhys was present in the room when Jack began a live broadcast over Pandora, taunting the Vault Hunters. He used his usual jaunting tone, but Rhys could tell he was spitting out words with a much colder edge than usual. 

Finishing up his live message with a charming grin and a good ol hardy death threat, Jack ended the broadcast and threw down his pen. He swiped a hand across his desk, sending several documents flying into the air with a growl.

“…Are you…okay…?”

“Friggin’ Vault Hunters–”

“Ah, I see. Uh...is there anything I can do…?” 

Jack had pinched the bridge of his nose and taken several calming deep breaths.

“Everything is dandy! It’s all fine, there’s nothing you can do to help even if there was a problem! Which there isn’t!”

After that, Rhys let Jack be. 

————--

Rhys stood in front of the first set of slider doors leading to Jack’s office. It had been an average morning down in the employee levels of Helios and Rhys was eager to settle into Jack’s office for the afternoon. He swaggered through the sliding door and into Meg’s little domain. 

He was greeted by Meg’s surprisingly tall stature. She stood in front of the second sliding door, hands on her hips and a stubborn expression set into her face. Rhys had never seen her out from behind her desk before. To his surprise, she was quite tall and he found himself craning his head upwards to meet her gaze. 

“Uh...I uh...need to get past,” Rhys stared pointedly behind her. Meg shook her head frantically. 

“You can’t. Jack’s angry.”

Fear shot through Rhys. Was Jack angry at  _ him? _

Meg instantly read Rhys’s frightened and bewildered expression. 

“Don’t worry,  _ you _ haven’t done anything wrong.”

Meg sighed and pushed up her glasses somberly. 

“He flew into a rage after I let a messenger in about half an hour ago...I’ve been so stupid...” Meg fretted, giving Rhys a despaired look. Rhys shook his head. 

“Wait, wait. Why is he angry? What happened?”   
  
Vague ideas of what Jack could possibly be angry about flitted through Rhys’s mind. Maybe he found a spy? Maybe the Vault Hunters made a move?

There should be no reason Meg was barring his entryway into Jack’s office. Rhys had dealt with an irritated Jack before, it was no big deal. 

“From what I can tell from the angry screaming through the door...the moonshot is broken,” Meg fretted, tapping her fingers together. 

An angry uproar accompanied by several gunshots crashed through the air. Both Rhys and Meg jumped. Meg winced and pointed at the door. 

“This is what I mean–”

_ “I’ll fucking SKIN THE ENTIRE DEPARTMENT,”  _ Jack’s furious roar broke through their conversation, muffled by the doorway. Rhys stared at the door incredulously. A tang of fear sprouted in the back of Rhys’s mind. Oh, Jack was  _ mad  _ mad. Rhys had witnessed Jack’s anger before but he’d never heard this level of fury.

Although on a lighter note, Rhys had to admit, it sounded like he was just throwing a large-scale tantrum. 

“Erm...has he said anything else?” Rhys inquieried. Meg rubbed her hand nervously. 

“I went in to see how he was, and he  _ shot at me! _ ” She cried, grabbing Rhys’s shoulders with a crazed look. Rhys awkwardly patted her arm. 

“Are you hurt?”

“No! I’m just fucking TERRIFIED,” she wailed. Rhys calmly peeled her steel hands off his shoulders and distanced himself. Meg clutched at her hair. 

“I’d better go calm him down before he shoots anymore messengers,” Rhys remarked. Did he necessarily want to approach Jack when he was in rage-mode? No, but this was his job. There was clearly something wrong with Jack and it was Rhys’s personal duty to make sure he was alright. Besides, if anyone could handle a little angry Handsome Jack, it was Rhys. 

“No! No! I’m not letting you in there with him! You’re too good of a person to die today!” Meg refused, crossing her arms and standing in front of the door with a determined, stubborn look on her face. 

Rhys laid a hand on her arm in reassurance.

“I’ll be fine. I’ve dealt with an angry Jack before-”

“Not at this scale you haven’t! I’ve never seen him this infuriated before. Please, Rhys. I know I can’t really stop you, but you’re a nice friend and I  _ really  _ don’t want you to die,” Meg wore a pained expression. 

“I promise you, I won’t. He’ll listen to me, he always does.”

“That’s what they all say.”

“I’m serious! I’ll be fine, don’t worry. I have to get in there and calm him down, if I don’t he’s just gonna shoot more innocent messengers,” Rhys reasoned with the woman in near hysterics before him. She pondered his words for a moment considering all sides of the coin. Letting out a deep exhale she closed her eyes for a brief moment. Pure pain flickered across her expression. Her shoulders dropped in a defeated manner. She shuffled forwards. 

“I’ll let you in. I know you’re the best protection Helios has from his wrath. It’s going to be your funeral, so come here. I’m giving you a hug,” she reasoned. 

Rhys accepted the taller woman's hug. He cautiously gave her a comforting back-pat. 

“I’ll be in and out in ten minutes, okay?”

“I’ll be at your funeral, I promise,” Meg sniffed in response. Rhys distangled himself from her embrace. She shakily stepped over to her desk, finger hovering over the door control. 

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine.”

“Good luck.”

The doors slid open. 

————--

It was all just one big loud commotion. Rhys stepped through the threshold, the door slamming shut behind him. For some reason, he felt very trapped. Uneasiness crawled along his skin.

The very air he breathed radiated blind fury. It was so blatant Rhys felt a tiny prickle of anger spark in his own gut. Jack’s fury was so strong it affected others in a nearby radius. 

Jack was aggravatingly storming through the office, pacing furiously. Streams of mutters poured out of his mouth, occasionally ending in a short bark or harsh shout. One of his signature pistols was palmed in his hand. A new line of bullet holes revealed the wall that endured Jack’s anger. 

Rhys stood near the door, silent. What should he do? He really didn’t think this one through, did he? Jack was armed and angry. Great.  _ _

_ You’re a genius, Rhys. A real genius.  _

Jack’s back was turned at the moment. Rhys’s eyes strayed to the trail of blood smearing from the heels of his sneakers. He traced it all the way back to the center of the room where a lifeless messenger's body lay, soaking in a crimson pool. Rhys rubbed his nose. To his utter horror, he found that he was beginning to build up a tolerance for dead body smell. 

I mean, yeah, it was good to have a tolerance so he wouldn’t dislodge his insides every time he caught a whiff of blood, but to build up a tolerance implied being around the smell very, very often. A sad truth that accompanied working closely with Handsome Jack. 

Rhys quietly stepped forwards, towards the furious yelling Jack on the other side of the room. He made it past the body, and halted a quarter of the way over to his boss. 

“Heyyyy Jack, er...is this a bad time?” Was Rhys’s opening line. A pretty fucking shit opening line. Jack pivoted on his toes and whirled around to face Rhys. His hair was wilder than usual. A dark, terrifying deadly flame flickered in his eyes. 

“Rhysie. I’m gonna be generous,” he snarled. 

“I’m giving you  _ one _ warning to steer your ass right back out that door.”

Jack was a hot mess. That was for sure. His left gun-hand twitched, finger itching on the trigger. 

Stepping forwards, Rhys’s entire generation of ancestors and basic survival instincts shrieked at him to run. Or at least walk far far in the opposite direction. Just get out of this cage with this enraged and dangerous animal. Rhys choked down the bile in his throat and pushed away his fear, taking a heavy step forwards. 

Step step. Step step. Slowly, Rhys wobbled his way across the floor until he was standing directly in front of Handsome Jack. 

“You need to calm down–” he began, pointing a finger at Jack. Oh man, if he had a knife right now, he’d be able to slice through the violent tension like butter. 

In one fell swoop a fist roughly seized him by the collar of his shirt and yanked him forwards. The collar of Rhys’s shirt painfully burned into his neck. Rhys spluttered, metal fingers curling and scrabbling around the ironlike grip of Jack’s fingers.

A cold steel pressed into the soft skin under his chin. The distinct click of a pistol being loaded echoed throughout the room. Rhys ceased his useless struggling and went limp, meeting Jack’s fiery gaze with a neutral level expression. 

The old gun-to-the-head trick didn’t work on Rhys anymore. 

Jack’s gleaming mask was unusually close as he got up right in Rhys’s face for maximum effect. Seeing the fury etched into his expression up close was terrifying. Angry couldn’t even begin to describe his temper. 

Heart leaping up his throat, Rhys forced himself to stay calm, fighting the urge to back down and flee as fast as he possibly could. 

“ _ YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO BE IN HERE. I’LL FUCKING SKIN YOU TOO, I’LL FUCKING BLOW UP THIS ENTIRE STATION AND ALL THE WORTHLESS LIVES IN IT!,”  _ Jack screamed right in his face. 

At that moment, Rhys came to the realization he was trying to reason with a madman. 

“ _ MY FUCKING MOONSHOT IS BROKEN. SABOTAGED BY A FRIGGIN’ INSIDE MAN. WHO’S GONNA BACKSTAB ME NEXT? IS IT YOU?”  _ Jack roared. 

“How about we just...calm down,” Rhys suggested quietly, wrestling his fear induced adrenaline down. His suggestion to Jack was only adding fuel to the fire. Jack’s voice volume subsided but he brought out a wickedly sharp tone.

“Ah, yes. I’ll just calm right down while my MOST POWERFUL FUCKING TOOL IS FRIGGIN’ DESTROYED.”

Rhys tried to take a calm step back but Jack held him fast. 

"I’m gonna flay every last person on this station,” Jack hissed. 

“And I’m gonna fucking start with you. And don’t start whining, and pleading for your life,” he sneered. 

“I gave you a chance to walk out that door and you missed it.”

“–This is the third time you’ve put a gun to my head this month. I’m not afraid of you,” Rhys fought dearly to keep the tremor out of his voice. His flesh fingers unintentionally shook.

“Oh? Princess Rhysie finally grew some balls, huh?” Jack jeered at him, a fresh sneer curling across his mask. 

Something inside of Rhys cracked. Frustration poured out and a fresh wave of new power surged through his veins. He absorbed Jack’s anger and fueled his own. 

"You know what? Yeah! Yeah I have. I’m not going to put up with you and your utter bullshit! You need to take it down a notch, scratch that, FIFTEEN NOTCHES BECAUSE RIGHT NOW YOU ARE A FUCKING WRECK. JUST BECAUSE SOMETHING ISN’T GOING YOUR WAY FOR FIVE SECONDS IS NOT A REASON TO THROW A HOMICIDAL TANTRUM!” Rhys shouted at him. Jack was silent for a split second, astonishment flashing through his eyes before anger rekindled his fiery gaze. He backed up a short retort.

“Shut your fucking flapper, I can do whatever the FUCK I want. I’ll rip out your fucking ton–“

Rhys’s metal fist curled around the gun positioned under his chin. He yanked it out from under his chin and shoved the barrel back towards Jack. 

Surprisingly, he was met with little resistance from Jack.

“–No. Just listen to me for a minute, please Jack,” Rhys pleaded. He reached out and grasped Jack’s shoulders, levelling his gaze. 

“I’m not listening t–“

“I know your stressed–“

“Oh? You  _ know– _ “

“–and freaked out–“

“That’s a load of crap. You don’t know me–“

“But that’s not an excuse to throw a tantrum, like an angry five year old,” Rhys jerked his head behind him, motioning to the messengers body sprawled on the floor.

“I know you’re frustrated, but taking it out on innocent people like that guy isn’t going to help–“

“Are you kidding me? Watching his brains paint my wall was the only thing that  _ did  _ help–”

“Jack, you can stop this show now, it’s just me here and everything is okay. I know you’re stressed, just let me help you,” Rhys interjected. 

The fingers around Rhys’s collar loosened. The pressure on his neck lessened and Rhys could breath fully once more. 

“I don’t  _ need  _ help,” Jack growled crossing his arms, glaring down at Rhys. He seemed to have deflated or at least had his temper cooled by several degrees. Rhys exhaled, relief flowing through him. Rubbing his neck, he re-adjusted his collar and straightened up. His words should be able to reach Jack by now. 

“I’m sure you don’t,” Rhys played along. He paused for a moment, gears turning in his brain. What should he say to Jack? Judging by his irritability and the circles that had returned under his eyes he must be taking longer nights at the office. That meant there was a lot of work to do. 

“I think the problem here is that you’ve been overworking yourself,” he ventured. Jack scowled stubbornly down at him. 

“I’m perfectly perfect, thanks.”

Rhys suddenly leaned forward grabbing Jack’s shoulders in a steel grasp. He held on tightly, and gave Jack a shake, trying to snap him into his senses. Jack let out a strangled yell and wretched himself out of Rhys’s grasp. 

“Don’t fuckin’ touch me with your weirdass hands!” 

Jack jumped backwards and pocketed his gun. folding his arms and giving Rhys a brilliant scowl. Rhys put a foot forwards and pointed a finger right up in Jack’s personal space. 

“Look at me. You’re going to be fine. I know you’re stressed, you just need to relax, okay?” Rhys attempted some forceful (hopefully soothing) optimistic words again. To his surprise, Jack’s shoulders loosened and he sighed, pinching his nose. 

“Alright. Fine. You win. I pinky promise I won’t shoot anymore messengers. Happy?”

Rhys stared at him in stunned silence for a good chunk of a minute. Jack had...listened to him. Holy shit. This was a new development. Rhys tried to formulate a response but no coherent words could be formed with his mouth. He just stood there gaping dumbly, with his mouth slightly open, fixated on Jack. Closing his mouth, he shook his head. 

“No, I’m not happy just yet. I want you to take the day off too. You need it to relax, you’re way too wound up. Also, I don’t know how to say this...but you kind of look like shit…” Rhys winced. Oof. That was a bit harsher than he’d hoped. 

Jack haughtily glowered at him, squinting his eyes. He was debating whether to take Rhys seriously. 

“You’re a wonderful, kind, individual, sugar. Has anyone told you that?”

“I’m telling you for your own sake, seriously, your hair is a mess and you have some serious eye bags. You need a day off,” Rhys added helpfully. Jack reached up and ran a bloodstained hand through his wild hair. 

“Right right. And what am I supposed to do about my broken superweapon? Broken by some inside man might I add?” Jack tapped his foot on the office carpet. Rhys gave the best comforting smile he could. 

“I’ll get it fixed for you. I’ll go talk to the engineers and get them all sorted out. I’ll let you know when they can get it up and running. You can count on me, I promise,” Rhys offered with a confident grin. Jack studied him with one raised eyebrow in skepticism. 

“If you fuck it up, I’ll have you skinned and turned into a lamp.”

“I know.”

Jack sighed. 

“Do I have to take the day off?”

It almost sounded like a whine. 

Rhys nodded his head firmly.

"Yes, you need the day off from work completely. Trust me, it will all be better after you do.”

“But do I really have to?” Jack persisted, as Rhys gently pushed him towards the elevator doors. 

“Uh huh.”

“I don’t wanna….” he protested as the elevator doors slid open. Rhys patted his arm in reassurance as he pushed Jack into the elevator and stepped back. A disheveled Jack stared back at him. 

“I’ll see you tonight, deal?” Rhys inquired. 

"Alright, fine,” Jack grumbled. The doors silently slid shut on their tracks. The last sight Rhys got of Jack was his tired, dark eyes. 

————--

Rhys stood for a good five minutes, just deadpanning at the elevator doors. What the FUCK? He tried to process the events that just occurred in this very room. It was a whole lot of ‘what the fuck’. Firstly, Rhys had literally screamed at Jack, and Jack didn’t murder him. That was an achievement within itself. Then Rhys calmed him down from a homicidal tantrum. THEN Jack actually heeded his advice? Did this mean Jack genuinely meant it when he said he and Rhys were ‘tight friends?’

Letting out a huge exhale, Rhys sagged against the wall, wiping a bead of sweat from his brow. His heart was thudding loudly against his ribs. Shit, he hadn’t realized just how terrifying that whole ordeal was to him. 

Nevermind all that, Rhys promised Jack he’d get the moonshot running. Rhys now had a difficult task. This task was incredibly important, more important than anything Rhys had done before. The stakes were mighty high. If Rhys failed to get the engineers in order and the moonshot running, Jack would lose trust in him. Then he’d most likely flip his shit and not hesitate to pull the trigger on Rhys’s head. 

Pulling himself together, Rhys staggered upright, rubbing his forehead furiously. He still couldn’t quite comprehend what just happened. He’d just calmed down the homicidal maniacal most powerful man in the universe from a tantrum and sent him back home to take the day off for sleep. Pride flitted through Rhys. He grinned. 

He was the goddamn fucking best. 

————--

The doors exiting the office slid open and Rhys stepped outside and over to Jack’s secretary’s desk. Meg shot to her feet, disbelief etched into her features. 

“Holy SHIT!”

Rhys just gave an abashed smile.

Meg stared at him incredulously. 

“How are you even alive? I–Who even are you? Where did you come from? How did you get out of there in one piece much less alive–”

Rhys shrugged. 

“Honestly, I have no idea, I thought I was dead too,” he flashed a thumbs up. Meg re-adjusted her glasses on her nose. 

“You must be some kind of miracle worker,” she decided. Rhys shook his head. 

“No, I just gave Jack a different opinion than his and hoped for the best. Besides, he’d never lay a finger on me, much less kill me, I’m too good of a PA to be shot,” Rhys explained, a smug grin creeping across his face. 

“Well I am very proud of you, and am glad you survived. Uh...so...does he need anything done? Like the moonshot fixed or something? He isn’t going to shoot me again is he?”

“No, if he shoots at you again I’ll have to go have another stern talk with him.”

“I–I can’t even believe you right now–”

“I’ll be going down to the moonshot engineers and talking to them myself. Also, does he have any meetings scheduled today? I’ll be taking his place,” Rhys informed her. Meg blinked confusedly. 

“Yeah...he does. Uh, only one though down in R&D with a few of the heads down there…” Meg trailed off in thought. She then shook her head and pointed at Rhys. 

“Wait why are you going? Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want to see an angry Jack rampaging around Helios...but...uh...where is he? Why are you going in his place?”

Rhys sighed. 

“I sent him back up to his penthouse to rest and take the day off–”

“Sent? You sent?! You sent Handsome fucking Jack back up to his penthouse?? Who the FUCK EVEN ARE YOU??” Meg placed her hands on the desk and gave Rhys a wide-eyed stare, a tiny bit of fear flickering in her gaze. Rhys opened his mouth to explain when Meg waved her hand. 

“You know what? Don’t tell me, I don’t want to know. Just–Give me your ECHOpad I can put in the meeting details for you,” she pinched the bridge of her nose and held out a hand. Rhys dug out the ECHOpad from his pocket and handed it over to her. He watched as she furiously tapped in some details off a piece of paper then handed it back to him. 

“Well...I’d better get going. I have a moonshot to fix,” Rhys rubbed the back of his neck, turning away from the desk as the second set of doors slid open revealing the hallway. 

“Have fun! I am now absolutely terrified of you!” Meg called from behind him. Rhys grinned, this was turning out to be a swell morning.

————--

The moonshot engineers were in a complete panic. Rhys bypassed the security door to the designated sector. Employees were scrambling about, yelling at each other and furiously tapping on holographic screens. 

“Oh my god Handsome Jack is going to fire me, oh my god ohm y god oh–” a man whimpered in the corner, wringing his hands. Rhys blinked. Shit, this was an utter mess. He stepped inside the room. Nobody noticed his arrival, all panicked employees were buried deep in their frantic work.

Rhys approached the nearest employee, a man pouring over a holographic screen. 

“Hi, excuse me...do you know who the manager for this place is? Could you point me in their direction?” 

The man looked up, panic flooding his features.

“Who are you?”

“I’m here on behalf of Handsome Jack,” Rhys answered. The man’s eyes widened, then relief flickered to his features. His shoulders sagged and he mopped the sweat off his forehead with a cloth.

“Thank god, he’s not here–”

Horror suddenly dawned upon the man’s expression. 

“Oh my god I’m so sorry sir, I didn’t mean it–Please don’t tell him I sa–”

Rhys put a hand on his shoulder. 

“It’s alright, I won’t tell him you said that. However, Handsome Jack is a very angry man right now. Where is the manager of this place, or do you care to tell me what went wrong with the moonshot?” Rhys asked, putting on his professional business attitude. 

The man gulped. 

“The manager of this place is me. My name is Landon, sir. About seven hours ago some of the coding files were corrupted. Several crucial physical pieces in the mechanism were also destroyed and they were incredibly complex to build–”

“What were they?”

“Uh...a computer chip, one of the energy processors-”

“Alright, so just build new pieces. You have the blueprints…right?”

Landon raised a timid hand.

“Actually...er...the files were also erased,” he admitted. Wringing his hands and let out a cry. 

“We’re all so fucked.”

Rhys’s gears were turning, he tapped his chin with one metal finger in thought. 

“So this was an inside job, huh?”

“That’s what we think. Whoever’s responsible must have a personal grudge towards my sector because we’re all probably going to be killed–”

“Stop focusing on that. You’ll be fine if you can fix this,” Rhys snapped, his patience for the man’s pathetic cries wearing thin. He looked about the room. If everyone just stopped despairing for one friggin’ moment, it would make things a lot easier. 

Rhys could look for the sabotage-er later, right now he had to get the moonshot running for his own sake. 

“How much code have you salvaged and rewritten?” He questioned. Landon turned to his holographic screen and swiped a couple times. He spun it around for Rhys to see. 

“We’ve recovered and re-written about 26% of it. It’s incredibly difficult, we don’t have any file copies to work off of since they were all deleted,” Landon fessed. Copies. File copies. Rhys’s mind gears set to work. The moonshot assassin would have most likely deleted all the files they could get their hands on. Were there any that were unreachable?

A sudden idea flicked through Rhys’s mind. When acting as CEO for the day he’d discovered Jack’s holographic ‘Bandit-fucker’ screen for the moonshot. Thinking back, he was fairly sure there was a file off to the side labeled ‘parts.’ That should have blueprints, right? And since it ran off of a private server in Jack’s office the files would be under heavy encrypted protection and an invincible firewall. The copies of the blueprints should have remained untouched.

“How long will it take you to finish coding?”

Landon tapped a couple buttons on his screen. 

“Uh...thirty-nine hours, sir,” he grimaced. 

“If I was able to get you the blueprints for the components, how long would they take to build?”

Landon let out an exhale, scratching his head. 

“Uh...I’d say about twenty hours each?”

Rhys frowned. 

“Can you do it any faster?”

Landon went back to his holographic screen, typing in a few things. He shook his head. 

“No...even if we had the files it would take forty to fifty hours to get the moonshot back online.”

Rhys sighed, that would have to be enough. 

“Show me your server’s ECHO number and I can get the blueprints to you. Also, change the security measures, I don’t want any more harm to come,” Rhys ordered. Landon spun the screen around, showing Rhys the number which he analyzed with his ECHOeye. Yep, all seemed to be in order. 

This department’s servers unfortunately had a very weak firewall and with his ECHOeye vision Rhys could see numerous code breaks. He’d have to get a programmer on that asap. 

Rhys clapped a nervous Landon on the shoulder. 

“Don’t worry, you’ll be fine. Just do your job,” Rhys encouraged. Landon nodded, swiping the screen away. 

“I’ll go send the blueprints to you. The rest is up to you,” Rhys informed him, turning to leave. He frowned, spinning back around to take in the view of hysterical employees running about. 

“Also, get your team in line. You’ll get nothing done with them running about like a bunch of crazed monkeys,” he ordered. 

“Yes, sir. Thank you for helping, sir, I’ll get the moonshot running in no time,” Landon assured Rhys. 

“I hope so, for all our sakes,” Rhys muttered darkly, sweeping out the door. In the hallway he sighed and popped his knuckles. The ordeal was almost taken care of, but not quite finished yet. 

\--------––

After carefully copying and encrypting the files from Jack’s computer, Rhys had the blueprints sent to the moonshot department without trouble.

That night, Jack had returned to his chair. He had cleaned up a bit. His hair was back to its usual tousled state. He held a mug of tea as Rhys walked in. Very un-Jack like. At Rhys’s quizzical stare he grinned. 

“Self care, baby, self care.”

Rhys explained the moonshot’s status. After revealing the time frame it would take for the weapon’s full recovery, he braced himself for a Jack explosion of “THAT'S NOT FAST ENOUGH. YOUVE FAILED ME.” To both Rhys’s surprise and delight, that outburst never came. Instead, Jack expressed relief. 

“I’m very proud of you for going down there and doing that yourself without my righteous hand to guide your way,” he said, nodding in approval. 

“Guess I was right, you did grow some balls,” Jack remarked, regally sipping from his tea mug. 

“Are you going to say sorry for yelling at me then?” Rhys asked hopefully.

“No I would never. What are you, crazy?”

Rhys laughed. It was good to see Jack back in shape. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow morning. Good night.”

“Night, princess Rhysie!” 

————--

Entering his apartment, Rhys flopped down on his couch, a bag of chips in hand. What a day it had been, he thought dully. His legs felt sore from running around so much. Vaughn burst out of his room at Rhys’s tired arrival. He ran then skidded to a halt in front of Rhys. 

“I was so worried!” He exclaimed, gesturing with his hands wildly. 

“I heard rumors that Handsome Jack shot a bunch of messengers today, I thought you might have been one of them!” Vaughn explained.

"You’re okay right?!”

Rhys gave an awkward grin. 

“Hah, yeah I’m fine. Jac-Handsome Jack likes me too much, he wouldn’t shoot me, it’d be an awful waste.”

“What happened?” Vaughn questioned, both concern and curiosity in his gaze. 

“Moonshot broke and Jack was angry. I just had to calm him down this morning, that’s all! Don’t worry!” Rhys smiled tiredly, trying to remain energetic and positive. 

“Y–You ...calmed...him–you know what? Forget I asked. I am seriously worried about you dude, are you sure you’re not going to die?”

“I swear man, I’m fine. Apart from a little stress, everything's going just swell. You don’t have to worry over me, bro, I can take care of myself,” he reassured Vaughn, placing a firm hand on his buddy’s shoulder. Vaughn’s expression revealed that he didn’t believe a word that came out of Rhys’s mouth.. 

“Alright, whatever you say, company man.”


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Originally i wasn't going to add angel but I love her too much not to. So! Please! Bear with me as I add a couple scenes to this fic that involve her but are completely plotless

The next morning, Rhys spent a little longer in Jack’s office. The two of them had been completely engrossed in a heated discussion about whether airlocking employees as a form of firing was morally justified or not.

Rhys strongly argued no. 

Jack very much argued yes. 

“You could just send them down to Pandora! It’s a shithole, isn’t it?”

“And let them get away with disappointing me? No can do, sugar,” Jack shook his head. Rhys finally admitted defeat at Jack’s non-stop ‘reasoning’ where he insisted he was using ‘facts and logic.’

“Come on! I thought you were on my side here,” Jack pouted. 

“I’m leaving this conversation. I can’t take it anymore. I’ll see you after lunch,” Rhys shook his head and shoved his hands into his pockets. Jack and morality in the same sentence was never a happy thought. 

————--

It was a relatively average day at work. Rhys got his morning jobs done, had lunch with his friends and returned to Jack in the afternoon. He and Jack chatted for a while. Jack took calls and the two of them attended another executive meeting. Jack seemed to be doing a lot better since the previous day’s violent outburst. Today, he was pleased with how the moonshot was coming along. 

“I’ll fire a test shot right at Sanctuary for the Vault Hunters on it’s re-opening, it’ll be bloody cinematic,” he chuckled. 

At long last, Jack finally said goodnight and retired up to his penthouse. Rhys retreated back to his own abode. That night Yvette was supposedly coming over and the three of them, Rhys, Vaughn and Yvette were going to have a sleepover. Yes, a sleepover. It sounded very childish, but it was just the three of them getting together, ordering deliverable food, drinking, playing games and watching movies or tv. It was a tradition they’d started about a month into their friendship. 

Quite frankly, Rhys had been excited for it all day. Just one night to relax and hang out with the two bestest friends in the whole galaxy. Smiling, Rhys rode the elevator down to his floor and jauntily strode to his door. Holding up his ECHO to the scanner, the door handle clicked and Rhys stepped inside. 

The strange, yet warm and comforting smell of chicken and popcorn washed over his senses. Swinging the door shut behind him, Rhys peered across the way into the kitchen. Both figures of Yvette and Vaughn were seated at the counter. They poured over a bucket of chicken, laughing in conversation. Yvette swung around and Vaughn waved at Rhys’s entry. 

“Yooo! You finally made it! I already ordered chicken so grab yourself a plate and a beer,” Vaughn gestured to the table. Rhys put down his things and stretched. He hurriedly ambled to the kitchen, joining them. Grabbing a beer and popping the cap, he took a swig, piling chicken fingers on his plate. 

Vaughn had barely touched his drink yet and Yvette’s dwindled near the bottom of her bottle. 

Rhys turned to Yvette,

“Did you remember to bring bunkers and badasses?” He asked. Yvette grinned, and pointed to the coffee table in the living room. 

“How could I forget? We have to finish our duel!” 

Rhys slapped the table. 

“Nice! We should start right now! I’m gonna win!” He grinned enthusiastically. Yvette rolled her eyes. 

“Nerd.” 

“Ok but dinner first,” Vaughn chimed in, taking a bite out of his chicken. Rhys snorted. 

“This isn’t even dinner, it’s just fast food!”

“Bruh, tell me this chicken isn’t a five course meal,” Vaughn retorted, thrusting a chicken wing in Rhys’s direction. He snatched it out of Vaughn’s fingers and gave a cautious nibble. The flavor exploded in his mouth. Deciding it was the best chicken he’d had in months, Rhys wolfed it down and gave Vaughn a thumbs up. 

“Ohghmygod you’re rihgt. This ish really good,” he managed through his mouth full. Yvette gagged. 

“Don’t talk with your mouth full, it’s gross.”

“Whagt are you, my mom?” Rhys shot back, still chewing on his chicken. Vaughn let out a snort and Rhys grinned at his own joke. Yvette smacked her forehead in exasperation. 

Rhys finished his chicken, and wiped his mouth on a napkin. The considerable sized bowl of popcorn on the counter caught his eye. 

“You guys wanna take that and go get started on B&B?” He asked, eyeing the popcorn hungrily. Yvette shot to her feet. 

“Would I ever!”

Vaughn slid off his stool and grabbed the large circular bowl. He followed an excited Rhys and Yvette into the living room where a gray tablet lay on their coffee table. It was about an arms length long and two feet wide. Yvette threw herself down on the couch and Rhys squatted down to the holographic board, booting it up. This game always took ages to load. 

After selecting the file, the loading bar popped up. The little blue loading line was very incredibly slowly making its way across the screen. Rhys sighed. It would take a while for their game to power up. 

Turning to the couch Yvette was on, Rhys flopped down next to her. Vaughn pulled out the bean bag from the corner and positioned it on the other side of the table across from the couch. He placed the popcorn bowl down on the table surface and immediately three sets of hands (including Vaughn’s own) dove in. 

“Since we have such a long wait, Rhys what have you been up to lately?” Yvette asked, shoveling popcorn from her hand into her mouth. Rhys frowned. What should he say? He opened his mouth to answer when Vaughn beat him to it. 

“Oh! I already mentioned your little, uh promotion to her,” he confessed. Rhys blinked. Oh. Cat was out of the bag then. Rhys tapped his chin, wondering where to start. 

“As you already know, I’m uh...Handsome Jack’s new personal assistant,” he lead off with. 

Yvette’s eyebrows shot to her hairline. She shook her head in amazement and chuckled. 

“Wow! I mean, Vaughn told me but I didn’t quite believe him,” she admitted, staring at Rhys with a new light. He rubbed the back of his neck abashedly. 

“Haha...yeah…”

“So how is it?” Yvette punched his arm lightly. 

“It’s pretty good. Although it can get really tough sometimes,” Rhys grimaced, thinking back to just yesterday with the whole moonshot ordeal. He shrugged. 

“It does come with good pay though.”

Yvette looked at him in awe. 

“I wish I had a promotion like that...I’ve been stuck at my level for the past two years goddamnit,” she sighed. 

“Hmm, I guess since you’re the guy’s PA now you have a bias...There's no trying to reason with you that that Handsome Jack’s a bit...too crazy, huh?”

Rhys stuffed a few more popcorn pierces into his mouth and beamed. 

“Yep!”

Yvette let out a chuckle and Vaughn laughed. Rhys flipped the question back to Yvette. 

“You haven’t been around lately either...are you secretly someone’s PA too?” Rhys joked. Yvette waggled her fingers mysteriously. 

“I’ve been working on a big secret propaganda project. Also been fighting off a nasty cold virus,” she grimaced. 

Just then, a high pitched beeping sounded before them. Their game was loaded and ready. Vaughn pulled up his bunker-master screen. Yvette and Rhys sat forwards, opening up their character screens as a little holographic scenery popped up across the board. 

Vaughn grinned from across the table. 

“Just wait till you see the badasses I’ve come up with! You two are gonna be so screwed!”

————--

The three of them played well into the night. Lots of cheering and heavy laughter rolled around the apartment. The entire mood was wonderful. Peaceful, warm and cozy. Rhys was hot with laughter and often found himself breathless, tears rolling from his cheeks. 

He leaned back into the couch, observing the scene in front of him. Yvette was cheering her little holographic figure on as it fought one of Vaughn’s monster badass creations. Vaughn was laughing, Yvette was smiling and Rhys couldn’t be happier. 

Suddenly, Rhys found himself pulled back through memories. He’d been friends with these two for four years. Four long years. He’d met Vaughn in the cafeteria after transferring departments. They’d hit it off well. Surprisingly, they bonded almost immediately over their love for B&B. 

The fateful day he met Vaughn, the cafeteria had been overpacked with people. Yvette had wandered over with nowhere else to sit. She’d joined in their B&B conversation and well...now here they were, all three of them four years later. 

Upon seeing their smiling faces before him in the moment, an overwhelming wave of warmth washed over Rhys from head to toe, causing him to shiver. But in a good way. He fondly thought back of years worth of time together with the two of them. 

The time he and Vaughn had struggled to give Yvette a haircut since she couldn’t afford a real one. Let’s just say they had screwed that one up pretty badly, but after a brief state of anger, Yvette found it hilarious. She’d gotten her revenge by getting Rhys to help her hold Vaughn down and paint his nails a horrid shade of yellow. 

Then it was Rhys’s turn. They’d taken a sharpie to his metal arm one sleepover night and Rhys quickly learned to never be the first to fall asleep. Gosh, he never wanted that warm fuzzy feeling in his body to fade. It was pure bliss, pure happiness. He loved his two best friends in the whole galaxy, he never wanted this to change. He wanted to keep doing this, getting together, laughing and just being in each other's presence, forever. 

_ This is how I want it to be. _ His inner voice decided, happily. _ The three of us, forever. _

“Bro! Bro, hello? You there? It’s your turn!” Vaughn’s voice cut through Rhys’s mind. He jerked out of his thoughts and raised his head. 

“Bagh! Sorry, I’ll roll!” He grinned sheepishly, tossing the holographic die. 

“What were you thinking so hard about?” Yvette laughed. Rhys frowned, pointing at the board in front of them. 

“How I’m gonna beat that massive eridium monster.”

————--

The next morning, Rhys woke in his bed. He ambled out to the kitchen and did a double take at Yvette’s form sprawled out snoring on the couch. Oh shit right, she’d stayed over. Rhys checked the clock in his ECHOeye and nearly leapt out of his skin. FUCK! He had ten minutes left to get dressed and deliver Jack’s coffee. 

Rhys hastily scrambled around the apartment, waking Vaughn who stared at him quizzically. 

“I gotta get J-Handsome Jack his coffee!” He called over his shoulder in explanation as he slammed the door behind him and sprinted down the hallway. 

He ended up being a couple minutes late which actually wasn’t a big deal. Jack may have been a bit grouchy that morning, threatening to pour boiling water on his hands if he were late again, but other than that Rhys would call it a successful start to the day!

————-

Both Yvette and Vaughn had catch up work to do that day, so neither turned up to lunch. In the cafeteria, Rhys finished up his meal quicker than normal and traversed his route all the way up to the twenty-second floor. Holding onto a fistful of documents, he stepped inside the first office door which slid open to reveal that Meg was not present. She must have still been on lunch break. 

Rhys shuffled the papers into just his metal hand and carefully pressed the door control button on her desk. It slid open without a sound. Rhys subconsciously ran a hand through his gelled hair and sauntered into Jack’s office. It was still a bit early but Jack shouldn’t mind. 

“Hey! I came e–”

Rhys’s voice dropped into dead silence and he halted stone cold in his tracks. A peculiar sight greeted his unprepared gaze. Jack was squatting on the ground by his desk, his back to Rhys. A small young girl was on her feet, excitedly holding onto one of Jack’s hands which was massive, compared to her own.

She had stringy black hair that hung in her eyes and flowed down her left shoulder. Her eyes were electric blue and full of light, almost white colored. The right side of her temple was shaved and had two metal grooves implanted into her skull. Several wires and tubes branched out of grooves and connected her to an IV pole on wheels. A faint purple glow emanated from the violet substance sloshing around her IV bags. 

She wore a bright yellow dress with tiny straps going over her shoulders and black leggings that reached the bottom of her bare feet. Strange white tattoos (she looked wayyy too young to have tattoos in Rhys’s opinion) spiraled off her shoulder cascading down her left arm and peeking out from underneath the legging of her left foot. 

Rhys blinked in surprise as he realized the peculiar shape of her ink. He recognized the tattoos. A siren? Here? On Helios? He frowned and studied the girl’s face. Something about her seemed oddly familiar. There was something that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. 

A strange robot hovered over the pair, red and silver. It had two bright blue holes that gave it the weird appearance of eyes. It was a very round robot and Rhys couldn’t help but find it cute. 

Jack was saying something to the girl that Rhys couldn’t quite catch. At Rhys’s arrival announcement, he spun around, still holding onto the little girl’s hand who cautiously edged behind Jack. 

Jack stood, seeing it was Rhys and brushed himself off. The little girl clung to his pants, observing Rhys from the safety of behind Jack’s right leg.

“Daddy, who’s that?” She asked, in a small voice, eyes bright with both wariness and curiosity. _ Daddy? _Her voice echoed in Rhys’s mind. He briefly glanced to Jack, who’s mask portrayed an emotionless expression. 

“He looks cool,” the little girl continued, eyes straying to Rhys’s metal arm. It suddenly hit him why she looked so familiar. The portrait on Jack’s desk. She had such similar cheekbones...the vague whisperings of Handsome Jack’s daughter…

This must be his kid. 

“Wasn’t expecting you this early,” Jack remarked, a dark edge lingering in the edges of his tone. Rhys stood still, very still.

“Uh...sorry...is this a...bad time?” He stammered. Jack’s mask was one of contemplation. He was probably debating whether to shoot Rhys in the face or not for even setting eyes on his daughter. 

His daughter looked up at him and tugged on his hand. 

“Please don’t shoot him, he looks nice.”

At last Jack portrayed some sort of emotion. His face softened and he looked down at the girl with a smile. 

“I won’t babycakes, don’t worry.”

He looked up at Rhys and gestured that it was okay for him to approach. 

“This is my daughter, Angel. She’s ten,” he started slowly, almost reluctantly. 

“She’s Hyperion’s biggest secret. That little bugger up there is GORTYS, she’s Angel’s caretaker,” Jack pointed to the robot hovering over them. Thin metal arms extended from it’s body and it gave a cheerful wave. 

“Hello!” A female robotic voice issued from it’s speaker. 

“You never see either of them around because they live down in the secret labs in R&D,” Jack explained. 

Rhys cautiously stepped forwards and gave Angel a tiny with one cybernetic arm. 

“My name’s Rhys,” he introduced himself. Angel wobbled out from behind her father’s legs, peering at his metal arm in interest. 

“Hi,” she said shyly, raising a timid hand in greeting. Jack gave Rhys an almost apologetic grin. 

“She’s quite the little engineer. She’s too shy to ask you yourself, but she’s wondering about your arm,” Jack explained in a cheerful voice. Angel shied away moving back to the safety behind Jack’s legs. Rhys noted the purple tubes protruding from her head and the spiraling tattoos. He looked at Jack, catching his eye. 

“Is she...a siren?” 

He had to know. He knew it was a dangerous thing to ask, but the curiosity was biting at him. 

Jack visibly stiffened, shoulders taught. He flexed his fingers. 

“Yes…” he glared down at Rhys with a most threatening expression. His eyes conveyed a clear message. _ If you tell anyone about this, I will throw you out of the airlock no questions asked. _

“She’s very fragile and suffers from occasional fainting due to her...unnatural abilities. She needs a constant dose of eridium otherwise she’ll pass out more frequently,” Jack opened up, gesturing to the IV pole. The bags and tubes with purple glowing liquid must have been some form of eridium. 

Rhys noted how different Jack sounded while Angel was present. His mannerisms and even his tone shifted completely. He was a whole different man. 

Angel seemed to grow more brave. She loosened her grip on Jack’s pant leg and stepped out from behind him, defiant bravery in her eyes. 

“Can I see your arm?” She asked courageously. Rhys looked back to Jack, silently asking for permission. Jack nodded in approval. Rhys squatted down to her level and held out his yellow mechanical limb. She totted forwards, a little unsteady and peered at it, tiny fingers outstretched in uncertainty. 

“Go ahead,” Rhys gave her an accepting smile, allowing her to touch the cold metal. She carefully grasped it, peering at all the plates and wires underneath. She turned it over, amazement in her eyes. She was delighted. 

Her bright enthusiastic gaze met Rhys’s. Suddenly her eyes widened. 

“You have an ECHOeye?” She asked excitedly. Rhys nodded, a hint of pride flowing through him. Angel suddenly, jumped, clapping her hands together.

“Please Mr. Rhys, pleeaasseee tell me how it works, I want to know,” she begged. Rhys laughed. Jack did say she was quite the little engineer after all. He could see the intelligence in her eyes, there was no reason to dumb down the explanation of it’s inner workings to this kid. 

“Well, it’s got a tiny, tiny chip with trillions of code that makes up an AI. It’s a special AI, so it doesn’t talk to me or have a personality like…” Rhys thought up a good comparison. His eyes landed on the robot, hovering over Jack. 

“GORTYS.” Rhys finished. 

“It just shows me information I want about my surroundings or people.

“It’s connected to my cerebrum, which is the part of the brain where all the thinking, emotions and senses are processed,” he explained. 

“Using tiny microfiber wires, the chip in my forehead is connected to the ECHOeye. Using a positive charge my body naturally gives off the eye is always powered…”

Rhys continued babbling on. Angel stared at him enthralled, eating up his words. She stood, transfixed in fascination and delight.

He paused his ramblings for a moment, to look up at Jack. His mask was unreadable, he watched the pair quietly, a sort of light in his eyes. He met Rhys’s gaze, and let out a tiny smile of approval. The warm light angled on his face softened his features. Suddenly, Rhys found himself lost in Jack’s eyes, a warm feeling bubbling up in his chest. The vision of Jack smiling at him, (a real genuine smile, not his trademark snarking grin) replayed in his mind. He was transfixed. 

“Please tell me more!! I need to know!” Angel insisted, tugging his arm. 

Rhys flushed at Jack’s gaze and turned his attention back to the little girl.

“Well...there’s also the wires in my shoulder the connect the metal to my brain…” Rhys stammered, picking back up where he left off. 

He continued rambling for a while. Angel often interrupted to eagerly ask Rhys a clarifying question or seek a more detailed explanation. This went on for about ten minutes and Rhys was barely halfway through his explanation when Angel suddenly swayed on her feet and fell forwards, eyes flickering shut.

“Woah!”

Rhys caught the little girl in his arms before she could hit the floor. She was rather light, and her frail form folded neatly in Rhys’s arms. He looked down at her, panic flooding through him. What happened? His heart thudding, he peered at her unconscious form. To his relief, her chest heaved which meant was still breathing. Good. 

Angel’s siren tattoos glowed even lighter and the tubes in her forehead pulsated with a bright purple light. 

Jack immediately jumped forwards, kneeling down to Rhys’s height. 

“Shit!” He exclaimed, placing a rough hand gently on her forehead. Slight concern flickered in his gaze as he glanced up to Rhys who had begun to panic. 

“I–I didn’t do anything to her! I swear! She jus–”

“I know, calm down. She’s just fainted, that’s all,” Jack cut through Rhys’s panicked defense. Jack took a deep breath. 

“Goddamnit, I shouldn't let her come up anymore, she’s too weak,” he cursed. 

“Will she be okay?” Rhys fretted, cradling her frail body in his arms. 

“Yeah, she just needs a minute for more eridium to catch up,” Jack nodded. He took one of her small hands in his own and held it, just staring at his little girl in Rhys’s arms. 

GORTYS beeped from behind him and floated forwards. 

Suddenly, Angel stirred. Her long black eyelashes fluttered and a dazed look passed over her small face. She squirmed in Rhys’s arms, confusion crossing over her expression. 

“Hey there sweetie, are you okay?” Jack asked with a softness Rhys had never heard before. Angel blinked a few times. 

“I–I y–yeah…” she stuttered. With both Rhys and Jack’s help, she was steadily propped up to her feet. She clutched Jack’s arm for support, knees weak. Jack ran his fingers through her hair comfortingly. 

“I think it’s time you return home,” he suggested to his daughter. Sadness crossed Angel’s face. 

“Do I have to, daddy? I still wanna talk to Rhys,” she muttered sadly, pointing to Rhys who stood opposite to them. Jack nodded firmly. 

“I’m sorry honey, you might get hurt if you stay any longer. GORTYS, please take her back down to the labs,” Jack ordered. 

“Yes, sir!” GORTYS chirped. Angel sighed and reached out to Rhys. It took him a moment to realize she was offering a handshake. He grasped her tiny fingers, careful not to crush them in his metal grasp. She offered him one last tiny smile. 

“It was nice meeting you Mr. Rhys,” she grinned. Rhys shook his head. 

“Just call me Rhys, mister sounds too formal. I feel old,” he told her. She beamed. 

“Thank you, Rhys!”

A clunking sound echoed from beside them. GORTYS had landed on the ground and was doing something quite peculiar. Metal plates expanded from her torso and she grew to be considerably larger. A small space, big enough for a child opened up. Rhys could see it was padded. GORTYS was now the size of a loader bot. 

Jack leaned forwards and planted a kiss on her forehead. 

“I'll talk to you soon, baby,” he promised. Angel nodded, still grasping his hand in her grasp. Jack took her IV pole, and folded it down to a small size. He handed it to his little girl. 

“I love you,” he squeezed her hand. Angel buried her nose in his shirt and reached her tiny arms around his shoulder. 

“I love you too, daddy, don’t worry about me,” she reassured him. Jack chuckled. 

“I would never.”

Angel turned to Rhys and waved. 

“Bye Rhys!”

She then turned and with the help of Jack, clambered inside GORTYS’s new hollow chamber. The metal plates shifted and the small siren girl was hidden from view. Rhys watched in fascination as GORTYS lifted into the air, hovering just above the ground. Jack put a hand on the robot’s metal exterior. 

“Take good care of her for me,” he told the robot. She chirped happily. 

“You know I always do!”

Rhys watched GORTYS levitate towards the exit out of Jack’s office. The door slid open and both he and Jack watched it disappear. 

Turning to Jack, Rhys let out a sigh. 

“Wow...I...wasn’t expecting that,” he noted. Jack was quiet for a moment, just staring at the now closed door. He looked over to Rhys. 

“You can’t tell anyone about this, about her,” he said in a low voice. 

“I understand,” Rhys nodded. A big realization just fell on him. Angel was Jack’s biggest secret, as far as Rhys knew. And Jack had just shown her to him. Rhys had Jack’s trust. Jack trusted him. Rhys rubbed his forehead. Jack trusted him. He’d gotten the most paranoid man in the galaxy to trust him. Rhys had to be careful with this, gaining Jack’s trust was no easy task and he knew he could lose it in the blink of an eye. 

Jack turned to him a dangerous look dancing behind his gaze. 

“If you tell anyone, even mention the briefest detail, I'll load you into the fucking moonshot and fire you into the biggest, nastiest rakk nest Pandora has to offer,” he threatened. 

“Jack, I promise, I won’t tell anyone. I know how much danger she’d be in if anyone knew,” Rhys said, meeting his gaze squarely. Jack’s expression suddenly shifted. He snapped his fingers. 

“Well that’s just wonderful! Glad we cleared that up! Alright, now did you have some papers for me?” He quickly shifted the topic. 

“Wait, can I ask something?” Rhys asked. Jack scowled. 

“Depends.”

“Okay...how often does she come up from the labs? It can’t be often since no one on Helios knows for sure she exists,” Rhys asked. 

“Every two weeks,” Jack answered, folding his arms. 

“You saw it yourself, she’s very fragile in her condition, I can’t risk her getting hurt.”

“I understand,” Rhys replied, lifting his voice. 

“She really is quite the scientist huh?” He chuckled. Jack’s hardened gaze broke for an instant and he cracked a smile. 

“I know. She’s a good kid, always been inquisitive. I don’t know what I’d do without her,” Jack admitted. Rhys smiled. 

“I like her. Also you seem different around her, happier almost,” Rhys remarked. Jack gave Rhys a hearty smack on the back. 

“Alrighty! Back to work, sweetheart and never speak of this again!”

“Sure thing,” Rhys chuckled. He handed Jack the papers he’d come to deliver originally. 

“Here are those documents you asked for.”

Jack took the papers and ambled up to his desk, flopping down in his big yellow chair. Rhys just stared at him. Seeing Jack so happy, so weirdly unguarded was a sight he could never forget. 

“What are you lookin’ at ya weirdo, get to work!” Jack yelled down at him. Rhys snapped out of his trance. 

“Yessir!”

He hurried to his desk and shuffled through the papers, marking them with a pen and sorting them into different piles. He found his mind wandering to both Jack and Angel, more often than not. She adored her father and Jack clearly loved her very much. But why was she so carefully hidden? Sure, it would be dangerous for people to know she existed, Jack’s numerous enemies could easily go after her if they did. 

But Jack clearly loved her dearly but he wasn’t the type to hide something away that he so proudly loved. He would think of that as a cowards move. A more Jack-like action would be to have her up front and just fucking murder anyone who came near her. Maybe there was more to their story than Jack let on. 

More questions crossed Rhys’s mind. Who was Angel’s mother? Where was she? Jack had had a lot of girlfriends...Rhys had a feeling that topic was a very off-limits one with Jack. He decided to leave it as a mystery. Jack would tell him if he saw fit, Rhys didn’t need to pry on his private life. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Im aware gortys technically has no affiliation with hyperion in canon but she has a very nice personality that i think would suit being angels caretaker and i didnt feel like making an another ai oc for this so....
> 
> Also i wanted to touch some light on rhys's friendship with Yvette and Vaughn its very pure and i love all of them a lot.


	20. Part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here's the alcohol i promised in the tags woooo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy new year!!

The next few days on Helios were completely and utterly normal. Jack refused to bring up the topic of Angel any further and scolded Rhys harshly in any of his attempts to even mention her in their conversations. Scolded was a relative light term, death threat was a more accurate descriptor. 

Remember the broken moonshot? That was back up and running. Jack was exceptionally pleased and in an extravagant mood that day. He let Rhys do the honors of firing a test shot right at Sanctuary. When it deflected off Sanctuary’s shield wall, Jack cursed. 

“Friggin’ Neanderthals and their stupidly strong protective shields. It just makes me wanna crush all their stupid little skulls,” Jack muttered angrily clenching his fists. 

————-

One night, as he lay on the couch idly watching tv, Rhys received a text that he never believed in a thousand years he would hear (or in this case, see) from Handsome Jack himself. 

_ come meet me at the office and have dinner with me im boreeed_

Rhys let out a strangled yell and almost dropped his ECHOpad. Did he see that right? His heart was suddenly racing. Vaughn looked over at him from the kitchen counter with concern. 

“Are you good, bro?”

“I–I am just fine!” Rhys stammered. He re-read the text over again, just to make sure he’d read right. What the fuck? What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what th

What did this even mean? Had Jack texted the wrong person? Dinner?? Why in hell would Jack want to have dinner with him? Rhys thought back to the events that had happened in the past week. He’d met Angel, he’d gotten the moonshot running, he’d absolutely destroyed that one executive at that one meeting (Jack had been ecstatic over this)...What did Jack want? Why would he be offering _ dinner? _

_ Wrong person _

Rhys wrote back, just to be sure. 

_ no im pretty sure im right. this is that twink with the ECHOeye _

T–Twink with the ECHOeye??? Jack’s nickname ability never ceased to amaze Rhys. But nevermind that. This confirmed that Jack most definitely _ was _inviting him up for dinner. 

_ Ok give me ten minutes and I’ll be up there, _

Rhys wrote back. He tossed the ECHO aside and swung his legs off the couch. His mind kept running back to that single question. But why did Jack want to have dinner with him?

_ I guess I’ll find out when I get there. _Rhys answered himself firmly. There was no point in worrying about reasoning, he’d get to that later. Right now he had to get ready for the occasion. 

The thought suddenly entered his mind. What if Jack just wanted him to work later and was being nice? Rhys frowned thoughtfully, looking at the pile of blueprints on the counter he’d drawn up. Hmm...yeah he should probably bring those so he had something to do. After gathering up a couple prints, he crossed into the kitchen over to Vaughn. 

“Uh...so...Jack invited me up for dinner tonight so–”

Vaughn promptly spit out his drink. He coughed, wiping his mouth with a napkin.

“I’m _ sorry? _” He choked out, staring at Rhys as if he’d grown a second head.

“_ Handsome Jack _ asked you to _ dinner? _” Vaughn leapt to the conclusion with an incredulous look. 

“Uh...yeah–”

“A _ date?” _ Vaughn interrupted, eyes wider than the moon. Rhys shook his head hurriedly and waved his arms in a panic. 

“What?? No! No! It’s just a dinner, what the fuck, bro?” He rushed out hurriedly. Oh no, another explanation popped into Rhys’s mind. _Was_ Jack asking him on a date? This new possible explanation had the lowest chance of being true. Although, with Jack’s personality there was a strong possibility he was asking Rhys on a date. 

A peculiar fuzzy feeling of warmth blossomed from Rhys’s chest. It ran up and down his body all the way to his toes. Hmm...well...if it was a date, Rhys would certainly not mind at all. Dare he say it, he’d even welcome it. 

_ What is this?? Your sixteen year old fantasies??? Get your head out of the gutter Rhys. _His inner voice of reasoning argued. Rhys found himself inclined to agree with it. The probability of this being a date was next to none. Jack probably just wanted to have a nice dinner as…coworkers…or dare he say it...friends. Besides Jack most definitely didn't like him _that _much.

“Dude,” Vaughn put his hands on Rhys’s shoulders. Sincereness and empathy glittered in his eyes. 

“If there’s something you need to tell me...or talk about, you know I’m always he–” Rhys shoved him away. 

“Erugh! No! It’s just dinner! And–” Rhys glanced at the time. 

“–And I’m gonna be late! Look, I’ll try and be back by ten, okay?” Rhys said, meeting him squarely in the eye. 

“Bro are you alright? Are you sure you don’t need to talk to someone–”

“Yes!” Rhys exclaimed exasperated. He patted Vaughn on the back. 

“I’ll be fine, man. Don’t worry. I said I’d be back by ten, if I’m not...”

Rhys paused then shrugged. 

“Even if I’m not back by ten I’ll still be fine. I gotta go, I’ll see you later!” Rhys said quickly, running to the door in almost a sprint. 

“I’m not sure about this!” Vaughn called to him. 

“I’ll be fine!” Rhys shouted back. He had one foot out the door. 

“Bye!!!” He waved frantically. 

“Well...good luck!”

————--

Rhys hurried down the hallway towards the elevator. A very strange feeling curled up inside him. It was a mixture of both excitement and...something else he couldn’t quite place. He hopped into the elevator and took a deep inhale. He hadn’t realized how fast his heart was racing. Jesus, he had to calm down. He had to be professional. Especially since this was Handsome Jack he was referring to. 

Walking down the hallway, his thoughts were in a tizzy. It all came back to that one question. What did Jack want? He clearly wanted something out of this...why? What was it? 

Rhys strolled down the corridor after exiting the elevator. He paused at the entrance to Jack’s office, smoothing out his vest and running a hand through his hair. Well...this was it. Whatever Jack wanted, Rhys would find out soon. 

He entered the office, cautiously looking about. Jack was leaning against his desk, arms crossed.

“Evening! You’re finally here. You’re forty seconds late,” Jack remarked glancing at his watch. 

“Uh...yeah...I guess so…” Rhys stammered lamely. He suddenly found it increasingly difficult to form words. He clutched the few blueprints in his grip. Jack’s eyes flicked downwards to Rhys’s fist. 

“What’s that?”

“Oh...uh...I brought some work to work on...you know? I just thought–”

“Naw naw. No work tonight. Let’s just take the night off, have a good relaxing time, ya know?” Jack shook his head. Rhys blinked slowly, trying to process his words. 

“R-Right...okay,” Rhys said, placing the blueprint documents on his desk for later. Well, it seemed that ‘work’ explanation was ruled out of ‘reasons Jack could possibly be inviting him up to dinner.’

Rhys simply stood dumbly in the middle of the room. He wiped the sweat of his palms onto his pants. 

“Ok...sooo….” he looked around. 

“Uh…what are we doing?” 

Jack pushed off of the desk and clasped Rhys’s shoulder. 

“Come on! We’re going to my place.”

Rhys almost reluctantly followed Jack into the elevator. He felt very lightweight all of a sudden. Was this real? Was this a dream? Was Handsome Jack really inviting him up to his penthouse for dinner? He cast his gaze downwards, suddenly very invested in the shape of his shoes. He stood next to Jack in dead silence. Just the faint hum of the elevator pulley system machinery filled the quiet atmosphere. 

The doors opened and the two stepped out into Jack’s expensive penthouse. Jack quickly strode across the floor to the kitchen. Just before he crossed the threshold, he glanced over his shoulder at Rhys who was awkwardly shuffling into the apartment, unsure of where to go and what to do. 

“Take a seat, sweetheart, I’ll be right back.”

Jack disappeared into the kitchen and Rhys ambled across the floor to the table by the massive bay window, looking out at Pandora. He frowned. Had that been there his last visit? Maybe Jack had brought it out just for this occasion. 

Rhys gingerly sat in the chair, still not quite sure this was reality. He rested his elbow on the table and peacefully gazed out into the beautiful purple space. Jack’s apartment really did have a nice view didn’t it? It was a rather serene view, a pleasant place to gather his thoughts. 

————--

Jack returned from the kitchen in a sing-song voice. 

“I brought dinner!”

Rhys watched him with a quizzical expression as he swept around and sat down opposite Rhys. Jack placed something down in front of both of them. 

Rhys raised a quizzical eyebrow at the sight. Jack had put…a...bag of pretzels...on a plate...and given it to Rhys. Rhys looked up to Jack who wore an expression of utmost positive delight on his face. 

“Do you mean to tell me…this is dinner?” Rhys asked him. He cringed a little, that came out a tad bit harsher than expected…

Jack scowled at him. He folded his hands on the table and nodded sincerely. 

“Yes. In fact, these are my nicest pretzels, thank you very much.”

Rhys struggled to come up with a...damage control compliment. He scratched his cheek with a metal finger. 

“Well...it’s...er…”

Jack let out an aggressive sigh. 

“You’re killin’ me Rhysie! You’re killing me!” He groaned, smacking his forehead with a hand. Rhys winced. He chose his next words carefully. 

“I...uh...appreciate the thought…”

“This is the kindest thing I’ve ever done for someone!” Jack retorted indignantly, exasperation in his voice. 

“Well, except for the time I put that bandit burning alive out of its misery...but nevermind that!”

Jack took his bag of pretzels and popped them open, pleased with himself but not pleased with Rhys’s reaction. Rhys studied him. Did this man really eat pretzels for dinner? Really? 

Rhys took a deep breath. 

“Tell you what. I’ll make us some real food for tonight? Sound good?” He proposed. 

“Excuse you, this is real food!” Jack pointed to the lettering on the pretzel package. 

“It says right here! All natural. All natural means real!” Jack insisted, crunching on a cracker. 

“That’s not what it means,” Rhys shook his head. 

“Yeah, pretty sure it is, dum-dum. Watch who you’re calling an idiot.” 

Rhys mustered up a pained smile. Arguing with Jack over something as small as this was a useless move, Jack would most likely persist ‘till the end.

“Okay, I’m still going to make you some...other food,” Rhys said, getting to his feet and pushing out his chair. 

“Do you really eat pretzels for dinner on a regular basis?”

Jack shook his head and scoffed. He gave Rhys an incredulous look as if he’d said something offensive. 

“Of course not! I eat them for lunch too!”

Rhys smacked his face with a metal palm. 

“What the fuck, Jack. Alright, I’m going to make us more quality food, can you show me where the pans are in the kitchen?”

Jack stood from his chair and stiffly followed Rhys into the kitchen. He pointed to a cabinet. Rhys opened it and found it was packed full of shiny, clean cooking pots. There were no scratches on any of the surfaces. Rhys eyed them suspiciously. 

Carefully taking one out, he whirled around to face Jack. 

“Have you...ever used these before?”

“Nope, nada never. Didn’t have a use for em’,” Jack answered, eyeing the pans with mild interest. 

Rhys moved to the sink next, running the pan under the water. He glanced over his shoulder. 

“Have you really _ only _eaten just pretzels?” He questioned incredulously. He couldn’t quite believe this. Jack stroked the jawline of his mask. 

“No, I eat cereal in the mornings.”

Rhys whipped around and simply stared at Jack, open mouthed. Genuine concern glittered in his gaze. 

“How are you even alive???” He asked, horrified. Jack grinned ear to ear. 

“I’m just that friggin’ great!” He looked positively delighted with himself. 

“You’re gonna die from a heart attack,” Rhys muttered under his breath to himself. 

“Sorry? What was that? I couldn't quite catch it,” Jack leaned in, offering an ear. 

“I said that’s very cool, Jack!”

“Wow, thank you!” Jack put a hand over his heart, mockingly touched.

\------------

Rhys ambled about the kitchen, rifling through various cabinets searching for ingredients. Jack trailed around behind him, strangely reminiscent of a dog. He watched Rhys with an obvious curiosity. 

Through opening the fridge and rifling around, Rhys found an unopened package of ravioli. He dug it out of the pile of numerous different food products, all uneaten. He shook his head. Jack was just one enigma after another

Deciding that ravioli was the quickest safest bet, Rhys set the stove to a high boil. 

Jack watched him with interest. 

“What is this?”

“It’s ravioli.”

“It looks like it's going to take a while...Y’know, we could just eat pretzels...?”

“It will be ten minutes, tops,” Rhys batted him away. 

Jack pouted. 

“But that’s so long, I shouldn’t have to wait that long just for food at home,” Jack groaned. Rhys sighed. 

“Just go...get drinks ready or something,” he waved a hand dismissively. Jack stood still, his eyes just glued to Rhys. 

“Uh….” Rhys stared back, a bit uncomfortably, realizing his mistake. Whoops, he’d gotten a little too comfortable. Gotta remember that telling Jack what to do was not on the safety list. Jack narrowed his eyes then threw up a hand, turning away. 

“Whatever! I’m gonna find us some good alcohol.”

————-

Using various herbs from random cupboards (seriously why did Jack have all this ingredient stuff if he never even used it??) Rhys finished off the toppings to his very fine frozen ravioli dish. He stepped back, putting his hands on his hips and admiring his work sitting on the stove. Mmm...yes...this would be good. Even by Jack’s low standards.

_ Huh, I just made dinner for Handsome Jack in his own apartment. This is a very strange thing to add to a list of accomplishments. _Rhys thought with a grin. 

————--

The two sat at the table. A slight purple glow from outside the window illuminated both of their silhouettes, casting their long shadows across the floor. 

At first Jack was cautious about Rhys’s kitchen creation. 

“You could have poisoned this,” he decided thoughtfully. Half a ravioli in his mouth, Rhys studied him with a neutral expression. 

“I’ve literally already eaten half my plate and I’m not dead yet,” he pointed out dryly. Jack gestured towards him. 

“Good point.”

He picked up his fork, aggressively stabbed several pastas, and scarfed them down within the blink of an eye. Then Jack raised an eyebrow in thought. 

“Huh, that’s real good,” he complimented. He looked up at Rhys. 

“Where did you learn to cook stuff like this?”

Rhys gave an awkward grin. It was literally just packaged frozen ravioli but...if Jack liked it...well that was good enough for him. 

“Vaughn, my roommate, he showed me how to make my own food after I got sick of those weird Hyperion issued mush boxes,” Rhys made a face, shuddering at the remembrance of those horrible things. It should’ve been a sin to even regard them as food. Jack laughed. 

“Well those were pretty shit, that should change.’

Rhys frowned. 

“You’re the CEO, you could change them…”

“–eh but that’s more unnecessary executive meetings.”

“Fair point,” Rhys replied with a grin. 

The two engaged in cheery conversation back and forth. This went on for a good while. Both of them finished their plates. Rhys reached for his glass. It was filled with a light brown liquid. Jack had decided to bring out some ‘quality beer’ _ generously gifted _to Hyperion by one of the taverns on Pandora. 

Rhys stared into his glass, metal fingers tracing the outside. He gazed at his reflection in the muddy liquid. A small part of his mind kept reminding him

_ Y’know, this is a really strange scenario, being here with Jack. _

_ I know but shut up and let me enjoy it. _

Rhys was also doing his best to be careful with the quantity of alcohol he consumed. Being a naturally born lightweight, it was mighty difficult not to drink too much. Especially all at once. He settled on very occasional light sips, like a white wine mom. Yeah, that was his safest bet. 

Unfortunately, he had become so engrossed in conversation with Jack, the next time he glanced at the glass in his hand he did a wild double take. He was empty. Shit. 

_ Well...it hadn’t really been that much, _Rhys thought in the back of his mind as he continued to converse with Jack. 

Jack on the other hand, had already finished two glasses and was reaching for a third as he was detailing one of his past ventures on Pandora, before he became CEO. 

“You used to Vault-Hunt with Athena the Gladiator?” Rhys clarified, just to make sure he’d heard right. Jack nodded proudly. 

“Oh yeah.”

“She’s the deadliest man in the galaxy! She’s the universe’s best assassin! You’re telling me, you traveled with the human with the highest kill count ever to exist in the galaxy?” Rhys asked incredulously. Jack studied his fingernails, miffed. 

“Well, I’d like to clarify that _ I _am the deadliest man in this universe, Athena is nowhere near my level. I’m the best of the best,” Jack corrected with a haughty expression. Rhys raised an eyebrow. 

“Sureeee.”

“Why don’t you believe me? Do you need a firsthand demonstration?” He asked cheerily.

“No thank you!”

————-

The two continued their chatter for just a short while longer until Jack swung his feet and stood, pushing out his chair. In his hand was the beer growler. In the other was his glass. 

“It is getting late!” He remarked. Rhys jumped to his feet quickly, mirroring Jack. He stood up a little too quickly. 

“Woah!”

The room tilted slightly and Rhys threw out his arms for balance. He groaned, shaking his head. 

“You good, sugar?”

“Too much to drink, stood up too fast,” Rhys managed out. Jack snorted. 

“That? That was too much to drink? Are you kiddin’ me?”

“Yes it was, thank you very much,” Rhys snapped, flushing. The room slowly stopped spinning and Rhys found the courage to grab his own glass. Was he going to do a bad thing and drink more? Yeah. It was probably drunk Rhys telling himself to drink more. It was always a terrible idea to listen to drunk Rhys but y’know? Whatever. 

“It might have been too much, but I’m gonna drink more because it’s not a work night,” Rhys proclaimed in finality. He offered his glass to Jack who raised his eyebrows. 

“Damn, well I can’t refuse that.”

After Jack refilled both Rhys’s glass and his own the two found themselves sitting on opposite ends of the couch, eyes glued to the tv screen. They were just watching whatever was on, but Rhys was too preoccupied in his own thoughts to concentrate. His own complex thoughts were just a jumble of words. 

_ I am sitting on the same couch as Handsome Jack, and we are just ‘hanging out.’ Like he said. I am sitting on the same couch as Handsome Jack, and we are just ‘hanging out.’ Like he said. I am sitting on the same couch as Handsome Jack, and we are just- _

GOD this was the strangest thing Rhys had ever done. And he’d done some strange things. Although, at the moment he was very comfortable. He simply relaxed and enjoyed Jack’s presence. 

In Rhys’s metal hand, he clutched a glass which was empty...again. Rhys did a double take noticing it. He’d already had...two??? He then sighed. Well, he was in the endgame now. 

On the other end of the couch, Jack was already on his fifth or six glass. Maybe seventh or eighth, honestly Rhys couldn’t tell. 

“Hey, can I get a refill?” Rhys asked, putting his glass on the coffee table amidst the assortment of firearms. Jack grabbed the bottle, and tipped more of its contents into Rhys’s glass. 

“Here.”

He thrust the glass in Rhys’s general direction, eyes still glued to the tv screen. Rhys accepted his re-filled glass and took a swig. 

“Oh yeah, finish telling how your arm works,” Jack said suddenly, out of the blue, turning towards him. Rhys frowned in confusion. Wh-what? Urggg, he’d drunk too much, his brain could barely process anything. 

“You were tellin’ Angel how it worked the other day and you never got to finish,” Jack clarified, waving an arm in a sloppy movement. Hmm...it appeared Jack was tipsy, and that was with Rhys’s own drunken observation. 

“Why'd you wanna know?” Rhys asked skeptically. 

“‘Cause it sounded cool. Besides, you seem to like talking about it so…” Jack trailed off. Rhys tapped his chin thoughtfully. Well...supposedly what Jack wanted, Jack got. Now where did Rhys leave off in his explanation…Ah yes! The faux neurons in his arm.”

“O-Okayyy uh…I think I left off at the modified neurons. So like basically, there are these neurons in my arm that…”

Aaaaand Rhys took off. God, he did love talking about his arm and the mechanics behind it. He talked a little fast, stumbling over a few words but Jack didn’t complain. Oh, Rhys really went on a ramble, didn’t he? Several times, his mind told him _ hmm maybe it would be a good time to stop, Jack’s probably not this interested. _But he just kept going. He just kept rambling, it seemed like it was going on forever. 

Rhys was also excited about this. Talking about his arm when people asked was genuinely one of his favorite things. The mechanics of it were just so fascinating.

His words suddenly faltered. Rhys froze, mid hand gesture and stared. Jack was just gazing at him with a new light in his eyes. His expression showed that he was utterly transfixed. Rhys locked eyes with him and stared right back. Uh...should he say something? Did Jack not like his excessive rambling?

Rhys frowned, suddenly aware of his surroundings. Why was he here? Why is he allowed in Jack’s penthouse. Rhys opened his mouth, struggling to find the words to speak. 

“Why am I even allowed up in your penthouse?” Rhys blurted out suddenly, swaying a bit. His drunken mind was quick to switch subjects. 

On another note, why hasn’t Jack just shot him?? Rhys questioned, mind leaping from one question to another. 

“And why haven’t you shot me yet? And why have I been able to stay alive for this long as a personal assistant? Why didn’t you just leave me on Pandora to bleed out? It would have been easier,” Rhys chimed in on himself, before Jack could answer his first question. His drunkenly hazed mind was suddenly brimming with questions he’d had all along. 

Jack seemed to snap out of his stupor. He blinked a few times, processing Rhys’s sudden onslaught of questions. 

“It’s ‘cause you’re part of the team. I always look out for my team, and you’re my friend,” he grinned, the smile reaching his eyes. 

“Woah,” Rhys reeled at Jack’s response. He was part of Jack’s team. Giddiness bubbled up inside him. He was actually worth something to Jack. Jack considered him a friend. This couldn’t be real, right? This had to be a joke. 

He narrowed his eyes, studying Jack intently trying to decide whether he was serious or not. With a mask like his, it was sometimes hard to tell. As he squinted into the depths of Jack’s bi-colored gaze, he came to a very nice conclusion. Completely off topic to the discussion they were having. Jack’s eyes were very pretty. Actually, his whole face was pretty. 

The purple glow cast from the windows illuminated his expression in a soft light. Rhys’s heart raced, oh god. He shook his head, trying to clear his stupid drunkenness. He tried to stop the warm blush from rising in his cheeks. Urggg but Jack was a very nice looking individual. And then it slipped out. 

“Your eyes are very nice.”

Jack raised an eyebrow, flattered. 

“Oh?”

Rhys immediately covered his mouth. God that was stupid, he was stupid. 

“I-I mean uh-uh y-your face is uh–v-very pretty,” Rhys stammered. He’d tried to do damage control and it backfired greatly. 

“I’m well aware. Why don’t you say it again,” he grinned. Rhys scrunched up his face in confusion. 

“If you already know...why do I need to say it again?” He asked, puzzling over this simple fact. 

Jack batted his eyes. 

“I like hearing it from you,” he smirked. 

Rhys had to sit back a moment and really process those words in his mind gears. 

“O-Oh,” his voice was a little higher than usual. The heated blush across his face flushed to a greater height. He took another swig from his glass. He needed a moment, because holy shit, Jack was flirting with him wasn’t he?

Jack let out a loud hoot at Rhys’s petrified expression of confusion. He began to shake uncontrollably in a fit of laughter. Rhys just watched him, fighting down the urge to join in. This whole thing was rather absurd, wasn’t it?

Jack put down his half-filled glass of alcohol and turned to Rhys. 

“Let’s dance.” 

Rhys’s mind went blank. What? D-Did he hear that correctly? He let out a nervous laugh and Jack smiled. 

“AGIS! Put on some of that...god what is it? It’s like swing or summ’ you know what I’m talkin’ about?” Jack shouted. 

“Yeah,” AGIS disembodied voice rang from around the room. 

At Jack’s request, AGIS put on some music. It was similar to swing in the sense it had the swing sort of feel to the beat. However it was a bit faster with no voices. It also had a clearer ring, sort of like electro swing. Rhys found it very catchy. 

Jack put down his bottle with a dull clunk onto the coffee table. The room was basked in a purple-red glow. He swung to his feet and took a few light steps forwards, towards the bay windows before whirling around to face Rhys, hand outstretched in invitation. 

Rhys slowly blinked at his inviting gesture. Wh–? 

“Come here!” Jack insisted, with a charming grin. Rhys just gazed at him dumbly before he decided–

_ Yeah fuck it. I’m doing this. _

Deciding he needed to be a bit more drunk for this, Rhys threw back his head, tossed the remainder of alcohol down his throat and set down his empty glass. He stood and crossed the floor, lightheaded. At first it was mighty awkward. Rhys stood in front of Jack,

“Errr….” Rhys held up his hands cautiously. Was Jack insinuating they dance together??? Or...apart??? Rhys’s fingers twitched. What should he-

Jack suddenly reached forwards and snatched Rhys’s flesh hand in a tight grasp. With Jack’s other hand he took Rhys’s cold metal palm and guides it up to his neck. Rhys blushed furiously, but under the reddish-purple lights, it was invisible. 

The sensation of a hand slipped around Rhys’s waist and Jack grinned. 

“Jus’ follow my lead, 'kay?” Jack hummed. 

“Oh I will,” Rhys squeaked out, speech slightly incapacitated by his drink. 

Jack’s feet moved in an indistinct pattern to the beat. Rhys stumbled slightly after him, trying not to trip too heavily. It took a few minutes, but eventually they fell into a wild rhythm. Rhys’s confidence gradually grew and so did Jack’s aggressiveness. 

He wore a grin as he whirled Rhys around and Rhys couldn’t help but enjoy it, breathlessly. 

And then Jack is laughing. Really laughing now, a light sparkled behind his mask and Rhys was laughing too. They enjoyed each other’s presence and everything about the pair of them seemed to sync up in this moment. Rhys’s hair was a wild mess, due to being spun and swung around to the beat. 

Suddenly, Rhys’s world spun as he lurched backwards. At first his senses were in a tizzy, and he wasn’t sure what had happened, he was still clutching Jack’s shoulder and Jack had his hand grasped tightly. 

Breath taken away, Rhys realized that Jack had dipped him very gracefully. He pulled Rhys back right side up and Rhys let out a wind of breathless laughter. Oh man this was the most fun he’d had in ages.

And then they’re off again. Spinning and giddy with laughter, both of them. They moved so fast together Rhys couldn’t do much but focus on Jack’s hand gripping his waist and Rhys’s own hand clasped tightly around his shoulder. 

Time seemed to fly. It was just the two of them, breathless with laughter basking in each others presence on the top floor of Helios looking over Pandora. Rhys focused on Jack’s face, illuminated in a red glow. Despite his hair being a raggedy mess he was still gorgeous. 

Rhys spun around one last time before he lost his balance and the ground rushed up from under him. As he lay eagle-sprawled on the floor, the laughter refused to cease. It bubbled up through him as he lay heaving on the floor reduced to giddy tears. 

The room was still spinning and his head throbbed dully. Oh shit the alcohol was really doing a number on him huh? Rhys kept on stupidly laughing on the floor, just watching the room whirl and his vision wobble and slide in and out of focus. 

A hand pierced through his blurry drunken haze, outstretched. Jack leaned over him sharing a similar look of ecstasy. Rhys reached up with a heavy fingers and grasped Jack’s hand tightly. The world spun greatly and a lightheaded sensation stabbed through Rhys’s head as the room around him rightened. He firmly felt the floor beneath his heavy feet as Jack hoisted him to his feet. 

Rhys was out of breath as he chuckled, still holding onto Jack’s hand. 

“Ok, I think that’s enough...I-I’m reallll tired,” he offered a cheekish grin, woozily. He let go of Jack’s helping hand and took a step back, wobbling unsteadily. The floor lurched under him. 

“I-I...I think-I think I’m just gonna take a…a nice nap,” Rhys held up a finger, vision flickering. Jack was sliding in and out of focus. A wall of blackness crashed over his head and Rhys went dark. Eyes rolling up into his head he stumbled back into the couch and promptly passed out before hitting the cushion. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *slow monotone chanting* slow burn sLow Bruh SLOW burn slow burn slow burn rewbrdghjgfdkjgh


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Slight filler. I have some bigass next couple chapters planned so hold on

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I drew some rhack fluff it has no correlation to the fic but it DOES show what Jack’s apartment looks like  
https://soliusss.tumblr.com/post/190069608664/shhhhthey-aresleebing  
(The whole embed link thing isn't working so you'll have to copy and paste :( )

Ah yeah. The classic case of waking up with no memory. It’s quite a common trope in media, and Rhys was surely not expecting to be a victim of it on this fine morning. 

Rhys stirred under the sheets, slowly opening his bleary eyes. Groggily taking in his surroundings, he noted two observations of interest. He was in his own apartment and his cybernetic arm was still attached to his shoulder. Strange, since he always removed it before falling asleep. 

He sat up slowly, carefully peeling the covers off his body. His whole body throbbed with aches from the top of his head to his toes. Sitting up in bed, he tried to gently stretch and recoiled at the dull pain with a groan. He rubbed his eyes then squeezed them tightly shut. Opening them back up he glanced around at his empty bedroom. What happened?

Carefully swinging his legs over the side of his bed, Rhys placed his feet firmly on the floor. And one, and two, and three- 

He swung himself up off the mattress, ignoring the aching throb in his legs. As he stood, a sharp pain knifed through his head and he groaned, clutching his temple. Oooh. Ouch that hurt. It felt as though his head were splitting open. 

Events of the past night suddenly coursed through his thoughts in a series of flashes. Shit. He remembered drinking. There was ALOT of drinking. The sore sickness he currently felt must be hangover. Urgh. He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to block out his spitting headache. It was increasingly difficult to concentrate on memories from the previous night. 

Okay, so he had a lot to drink with Jack during dinner. Then they were just sitting on the couch. That’s when details started to fuzz. Let’s see. Rhys was pretty sure he’d rambled about how his arm worked…(wow he looked like a loser virgin nerd doing that didn’t he?). Frowning, Rhys struggled to recall the details of happened next. What was it…Right! Jack proclaimed Rhys to be part of his team. 

There! Right around there Rhys’s memories went complete blackout. Rhys cursed angrily. Mostly at himself. He was so stupid. Why the fuck did he drink so much? He’d suffered the consequences of drinking too much many times before but did he learn from his mistakes? No! He was utter fool. A complete dumbass. 

Although… his memories weren’t a _ complete _ blackout. Tiny milliseconds of sensations and memories dotted his botched memory. Purple and red lights. Someone laughing…

Rhys traced the side of his hip with light fingers, remembering the ghostly sensation of a heavy hand curled around his hip. That was strange. Maybe it had just been his imagination. 

Glancing over at himself in the mirror, he looked down at his messy clothes. It was his outfit from yesterday, just wrinkled from passing out in. He lifted his sleeve and cautiously sniffed it. Recoiling, he found it reeked of alcohol and strangely enough...Jack. Whack. 

What the fuck had happened? Rhys groaned, clutching his head. Frustration poured through his thoughts. Urghhh, why couldn’t he just REMEMBER? Blackout drunk was _ really _ not Rhys’s idea of a good time. It was incredibly inconvenient to have a big gaping hole in your memory.

Well, he’d figure out the missing details of his night out later. Right now he needed a shower and some serious painkiller to douse his throbbing headache.

—————

Stepping out of the shower, Rhys ruffled his damp hair. Reaching out, he wiped a flesh hand through the mirror’s fog with one clean swipe. The eyes of his reflection bored back at him. He sighed, watching his reflection with an almost curious expression. What had his life come to? Handsome Jack’s friend? Personal Assistant? Rhys was fairly sure being Jack’s PA gave him some sort of executive rank. 

He glared at himself. The events of his life shouldn’t come as a surprise anymore. This was his career now, his life situation. He just had to accept the wild aspect of his work relationship with Handsome Jack and move forwards. 

The shower had been nice but it had done jack shit for his throbbing head pain. Rhys opened the medical cabinet and rifled around before his metal fingers curled around the painkiller. After swallowing three or four pills, he quickly dressed himself in another one of his plain work outfits. 

————--

Rhys staggered into the kitchen and collapsed onto one of the stools at the counter. Vaughn spun around on a heel and simply locked eyes with him in a wide-eyed crazed look. Rhys was a bit taken aback by his expression of fear, incredulousness, curiosity and annoyance. Unsure what to do, Rhys just sort of awkwardly glared back. 

“Um…-”

He started but was cut off by a sudden hysteric yell from Vaughn. 

“DUDE DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT IT'S LIKE TO FEEL FEAR? DO YOU HAVE IDEA IDEA WHAT IT WAS LIKE TO HAVE HANDSOME FUCKING JACK SHOW UP AT MY FUCKING DOOR WITH YOU PASSED OUT IN HIS ARMS?”

Rhys flinched at the sudden strangled shout. He immediately flushed. Is...is that ...is that what happened? When he passed out did...did Jack carry him h-home? Oh for fuck’s–what the fuck? What did...you know what? Nevermind all that. Head ringing from Vaughn’s hysteria, Rhys rubbed his temple. 

“Sorry...about that...uh...did he say anything about me? Important?” Rhys asked cautiously, quirking an apologetic eyebrow. Vaughn threw down his spatula in a hysteric fit.

“NO! He just waltzed in LIKE HE OWNED THE PLACE (well he does) DROPPED YOU IN YOUR ROOM AND LEFT WITHOUT A WORD! WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED TO YOU?? WHAT DID YOU DO LAST NIGHT?”

He shouted with all fear, confusion, surprise and relief etched into his face. Rhys chuckled sheepishly and nervously drummed his metallic fingers on the table. So...Jack had carried him home after blacking out, huh? It was a very kind gesture among friends to bring home the blackout drunk safely, Rhys supposed. He groaned and hit his head on the table, clamping his hands over his ears. This was all too much for his sore brain to process. 

“What did I do last night??” Rhys echoed Vaughn’s question. 

“I–I uh...I don’t remember,” he groaned into the marble counter.

“You don’t...you…–WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU DON’T REMEMBER?” 

Rhys flinched at Vaughn’s third outburst of the morning. He raised his head to meet his incredulous roommate’s gaze. He cracked a sheepish grin.

“I...er...had too many drinks–”

“Oh...my….god…” Vaughn pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head, strangely reminiscent of a disappointed father. 

“You need to be more careful,” he admonished. Rhys gave a weak smile. 

“Probably. So yeah...uh...I drank too much and I don’t remember what happened for about half of the night. I think I just blacked out...” Rhys trailed off, watching Vaughn’s amusing expression of disappointment and concern. 

“Dude, I cannot believe you right now.”

“I know.”

Vaughn seized Rhys’s shoulders. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

Rhys nodded and gave a thumbs up with one metal hand. Vaughn sighed and turned his attention back towards the stove, picking the spatula back up.

Something buzzed in Rhys’s back pocket. He jumped, startled and fumbled pulling his ECHO device out. New message from Jack. Ah. Perfect timing. Great.

_ ur still gonna bring me coffee right :] _

Again with the vaguely threatening smiley faces! Rhys frowned at the message.

Really? Jack wanted him to work today? Oh, so when Jack gets hungover he takes the day off but when Rhys gets hungover he still has to show up and work for seven or eight hours??? Fucking hypocrite. 

“Stupid asshole wont give me a single fucking break,” Rhys mumbled angrily under his breath. 

Sighing, he gazed at the analog clock in the corner of his ECHOeye vision. He had ten minutes ‘til he had to be up at the office. He glanced over at Vaughn who was eyeing him curiously. 

“What was that all about?”

“I still have to show up for work today. Jack can’t go a day without his goddamn coffee,” Rhys muttered darkly, rubbing his forehead. 

“Tough break huh,” Vaughn remarked. Rhys slithered off the stool and grabbed his Hyperion vest which rested over the top of the couch. He slung it around his shoulders and gave a weak smile. 

“Hah, yeah. Pays well though, and it’s weirdly fun,” Rhys shrugged, reassuring Vaughn. Vaughn sighed. 

“You’re getting weirder and weirder by the day, bro,” he remarked. He then gestured with a hand. 

“But as long as you’re okay I’ll let it slide,” he replied. Rhys positively beamed. 

“Thanks, bro. I’ll see you for lunch today?”

“Yep!” Vaughn grinned, waving a hand. Rhys called a goodbye over his shoulder and stepped out into the hallway swinging the apartment door shut. 

————--

Warm coffee in hand, Rhys said hello to Meg on his way into the office. She opened the inner door at his appearance and Rhys stepped inside. He inhaled deeply and then exhaled, trying to control his racing heart. His metal fingers fidgeted nervously.

Rhys wasn’t really sure what had happened the night before, but he felt a newfound sense of awkwardness and embarrassment at the notion that Jack had to carry his drunk ass back home. 

“Good morning, princess.”

Jack’s usual sarcastic chipper voice rang out. Well...at least he seemed to be acting normal. Rhys supposed that this was a good sign. Jack was kicked back in his big yellow chair, ankles crossed feet up on his desk. Rhys cautiously approached, coffee outstretched in one hand. 

“'Morning,” he offered, setting the coffee on the desk. Jack took his drink and took a long swig before exhaling and shaking his head. 

“Whoogh. Really hits different in the morning,” he muttered. Rhys unconsciously rubbed the back of his neck. He bit the inside of his cheek. He wanted to ask about what exactly happened the previous night. In reality, Rhys was kinda dying to know. He also wanted to know whether he’d embarrassed himself to death or not. 

Well...here he went. This was going to be awkward. 

“Hey...uh...did I say anything…uh...weird last night?” Rhys stammered. He couldn’t keep a pained, sheepish grin from spreading across his face. 

“I...uh...I blacked out...er…I had too much alcohol,” Rhys confessed, wincing. Jack studied him for a split second before he snorted. 

“Really? You had what. Three drinks? You call that blackout drunk?” He chided incredulously. Rhys frowned. 

“Well unlike you I don’t have an alcoholic drinking problem,” he retorted. Jack rolled his eyes. 

“It’s not a problem, it's a _ lifestyle, _dum-dum.”

Rhys was not about to argue with Jack about his questionable drinking habits this early in the morning so instead he shifted the conversation back to his original question. 

“So...urgh did I say anything weird? What happened last night?”

Jack sat forwards and narrowed his eyes. 

“Whaddyou remember?”

“Uh…”

Rhys thought back, collecting his thoughts. 

“The last thing I remember is...um...you saying I was part of...uh your team,” Rhys muttered, feeling the temperature in the room rise. He flushed. Urgh that sounded really strange out loud. 

Jack raised his hands and put them behind his head, leaning back in the chair. He repositioned his crossed ankles onto the table. 

“Nope! Nothing too weird. You complimented my eyes and then passed out a minute later. Shoulda seen yourself though, you were a hot wreck,” Jack remarked, raising his eyebrows and taking a sip of his coffee. Rhys scratched the back of his neck quizzically. Is that why his memory was so black? He passed out? 

But what about the tiny colorful memories poking through his blackout? Rhys's tried to come up with reasonable explanations for those tiny flashing memories. 

Well...the purple-red haze was just the room color. The laughing he’d heard was probably his own drunk dumbass self. Jack had probably said something funny. And...the weird spinning sensation? …alcohol. However, there was one thing that didn’t quite make sense. The hand on his waist. 

Rhys looked up at Jack. He was wearing his signature grin. Rhys briefly entertained the thought that Jack was lying. But staring into his mask right now...Rhys was fairly certain he was telling the truth. Why would Jack lie? But then again, Jack was a true mystery, and lying would come easy behind a mask. 

No...the hand on his waist thing must have been just a strange drink-fueled fever dream. Yeah...that sounded about right. 

“Huh. Right, okay. Well, sorry if I said anything else weird...about your...uh...eyes.” 

Jack snorted and then promptly choked on his drink. He coughed violently, putting his drink down. 

“Oh no, pumpkin! It’s welcomed! It was very flattering actually. I am a very handsome individual as I do say so myself,” he grinned. Rhys wasn’t sure where to even respond to that. 

“Right. Cool. Well it–”

“–It was a fun time, we should do that again,” Jack interrupted. Rhys blinked at him. Right. Okay. Jack had lost his mind. Rhys could do nothing else but give a weak grin. 

“Sure,” he squeaked, mind racing. What did Jack even mean by that? What could he possibly mean by–

“I almost forgot! I have something I wanna show you,” Jack snapped his fingers, swinging his legs down off the table surface. Rhys’s curiosity piped up as Jack sauntered out from behind his desk and gestured at Rhys to follow him. 

He lead Rhys over to the side of the room. He paused under one of the massive oil painting renditions of himself. Rhys stared up at the portrait, studying it. He wasn’t sure why, but it struck him as suspicious. The whole frame just had that mystery suspicious feel to it. 

“Here, watch,” Jack said. 

Wrapping his fingers around the gold leafed corner of the painting, he tugged on the corner several times before the painting finally gave way and slowly creaked open. Well, Rhys’s suspicions were confirmed. The painting _ was _ hiding something behind it.

Peering over Jack’s shoulder, Rhys could see a column of about...five drawers. All painted silver with yellow knobs. It was a peculiar sight.

Jack whirled around to face his companion. His mask bore a serious expression, one he seldom wore.

“Listen carefully, I’m only gonna say this once and I’m not taking questions,” Jack began, a certain defensive edge to his tone. Rhys nodded. 

“This is a secret secret, ‘kay? So no telling. Alright. Let’s say...hypothetically– and this is all completely utterly hypothetical because there’s no way I, Handsome Jack am ever going to die– if I am ever...hmm...how do I say this...out of...commission, I want you to come here and open the third drawer down, there will be instructions on what to do in case of my...timely death,” Jack winced. He shivered violently. 

“Urgh, just saying I’m gonna die makes me feel weird,” he grunted, brushing himself off. 

The startling realization fell on Rhys like a sack of bricks. The sudden overwhelming sensation of responsibility crashed over him. Oh. So that’s what this was about. Jack wanted to show Rhys his...will…perhaps? Was it even a will? Well, whatever was inside that drawer, Jack clearly didn’t trust anyone with it. Just Rhys. 

What in hell was Rhys thinking? Of course it was just Rhys Jack would confide something in. The two of them were friends, after all. If Rhys didn’t know any better, judging by Jack’s interactions with others...Rhys might actually be his only friend. 

Doing his best, Rhys gave Jack a reassuring smile. He reached out and clasped a hand on his shoulder. Jack glared at Rhys’s flesh fingers on his shoulder and then frowned. 

“I understand. Don’t worry, you can trust me,” Rhys said softly. Apparently, that wasn’t the best thing to say. Jack peeled Rhys’s hand off his shoulder. 

“Get’off me, stop getting weirdly sentimental it’s weird weird, seriously, stop,” Jack scowled. Rhys grinned sheepishly. Jack punched him in the arm playfully. 

“You’re acting like a friggin’ high school girl, you know that?” He shot at Rhys while swinging the portrait shut, concealing the drawers behind it once more. Rhys stuffed his hands in his pockets. 

“Well...still...I’m glad you could trust me with this,” He stammered out. Wow, nice one Rhys. Real friggin’ nice. That sounded really weird in hindsight. Jack gave him a strange look as the two of them strolled back to the center of the office. 

“You’re real shit with words, you know that, right pumpkin?” Jack raised his eyebrow, plucking his coffee off the desk surface. Rhys nodded vigorously, glueing his mouth shut. Jack picked up a loose paper from his desk, crumpled it into a ball and tossed it at his assistant. Unable to avoid it fast enough, it bonked him in between the eyes. 

Jack gave a hearty snicker.

“I can’t believe you’re the one I’m trusting this with,” he muttered under his breath as he ambled around his desk to his chair. Jack had meant for that remark to be out of Rhys’s earshot but misjudged Rhys’s hearing capabilities.

Rhys rubbed the back of his neck. So Jack really, truly trusted him, huh? Jack’s trust was not something earned easily. Rhys was part of the team now, he was Jack’s friend. In order for that to even happen, Jack would have had to put at least some trust in him. It shouldn’t be a surprise really. As Rhys watched Jack settle back into his CEO chair, he struggled to keep the tiny grin off his face. 

They were in this together, both him and Jack. Friends...they were friends. Not friends like Yvette and Vaughn, it was different. A whole different chord. It was more a friendship bond of trust. 

Rhys glanced at the time. He should be getting down to the office, he had a couple projects he wanted to wrap up before lunch. He stooped down and snatched up the paper ball Jack had thrown at him. 

“I gotta go finish some work, I’ll see you this afternoon,” Rhys tossed the crumpled paper back to it’s sender. Jack caught the object in one swift swipe. He dropped it on the table. The paper bounced once or twice before rolling to a stop. 

“See you later, cupcake,” Jack’s mask had reverted back to it’s signature, charismatic grin. Rhys turned, readjusting his tie and taking a deep exhale, clearing his mind. 

He’d trusted Jack with his life before and now Jack trusted him. It was a dangerous relationship Rhys was placing himself in, but he had no other choice. Jack was his friend, and he had to do whatever it took to protect his friends. 

————--

Rhys sat at the cafeteria with Vaughn at his side and Yvette across the table. The three of them were very much enjoying the days special. Well, it was the special everyday, actually. Sandwiches. The three of them engaged in casual conversation. It was mostly about B&B or projects they were working on in their respective departments. 

“So, Vasquez isn’t a problem for you two anymore, huh?” Yvette asked. Both Vaughn and Rhys nodded. Both men glanced at each other. 

“Yeah I haven’t seen him around lately, he’s stopped bothering me,” Rhys shrugged, picking up his drink. 

“He comes by occasionally and I see him in meetings, but that’s it,” Vaughn answered. 

“He doesn’t bother me either though.”

Rhys grinned. 

“It’s pretty great actually. Whenever he sees me he just runs the other way. Its kinda nice he’s not a problem anymore,” Rhys said, sipping his drink. Yvette nodded thoughtfully. 

“Well, that’s good for you boys. I still have to deal with my regional manager but she’s not nearly as bad as him, so I have nothing to complain about,” Yvette remarked. This whole Vasquez conversation struck a chord in Rhys’s mind. Thinking about it...where was Vasquez? 

Rhys still saw him around the office all the time but he just minded his own business (finally). Not that Rhys complained about this newfound silence from his insufferable coworker...it was just so uncharacteristic of him. Maybe Vasquez was just a changed person. Maybe his newfound quietness was just a new personality??? Did Rhys really scare him that much with Jack? Probably. 

Although Rhys couldn’t quite shake the feeling that Vasquez’s lack of aggression was some weird way of him laying low and plotting something, just waiting for the right time to make a move. 

————--

Yawning, Rhys approached Jack’s office doors at seven am sharp the next day. Coffee in hand, he rubbed his eyes and twisted his back, letting his spine pop. He’d woken up several minutes late in a panic after realizing it was after six forty. 

He dully watched the doors slide open. Meg was asleep at her desk, head balanced precariously on one hand. Ah, AGIS must have opened the doors for him. Rhys scratched his head and squinted at the woman’s disheveled sleeping form. Should he wake her? Hmm...naw, she looked like she was thoroughly enjoying her at-work sleep. 

Striding past his snoring coworker, Rhys ambled into the office. He just had to drop off Jack’s coffee and then he’d be free to go work on his projects down in his department. 

“‘Mornin,” Rhys called, stifling another yawn. 

He glanced up, expecting the usual, daily morning sight of Jack hunched over his paperwork up at the desk.

Rhys blanched at the sight before him. He found himself backing up right back towards the door in both confusion and fear. 

Because holy fuck, there were two Jacks. Two of them? Two of them??? Rhys could barely handle one Jack...and now there were _ two????? _ Rhys had to deal with _ two????? _

Both Jacks stood behind the desk. They were identical right down to the shoes. Same outfit, same hairline, same eyes, same mask. 

“Alright! This clearly not the right time so I'm just going to leave,” Rhys averted his eyes and gestured with his metal thumb back over his shoulder. He pivoted on one foot and marched right back towards the door he came from. He could handle one Jack, but two? No way. Nope. Nope. He was out. 

He’s not going to ponder such trivial matters such as _ why... _ or _ how _two Jacks was even possible. That was a whole 'nother can of worms to pick through another time. 

“Where do you think you’re going, pumpkin?” His normal Jack (or what he assumed was normal Jack. Let’s just refer to him as Jack I and the doppelgänger can be Jack II.) called from behind him. Rhys froze. 

A second voice sounded from behind him. It came from Jack II. His voice was incredibly similar to Jack I’s but instead slightly higher in tone and it lacked the certain charismatic snark. 

“Hey wait do you really have to kill him? Please don’t, he looks nice and it was a mistake! He probably didn’t even mean t–”

“Stop yammering Tim-tam. That’s my PA. Now get your ass back here Rhysie I need to introduce you to someone,” Jack I interjected. 

Rhys turned around to face both Jacks who eyed him with scarily identical expressions. Rhys sighed and slowly dragged his feet up to the desk. He placed the coffee on the table, gaze flickering between the two men. Upon closer inspection, Rhys could tell that the Jack on the right was the imposter, his masked expression had a tiny crease around the eyes. He looked worried. 

Any outside eye wouldn't be able to tell the difference, but since Rhys was around normal Jack so often, he could tell right away. Rhys raised a cybernetic arm and turned towards Jack II. 

“Hi.”

Rumors of Jack having a body double were fairly common. In fact, maybe eighty percent of Helios believed it to be true. And it turns out it was true. Somehow, Jack’s doppelgänger was possible. I mean, Rhys was standing in front of two Jacks at that very moment, so how could it be _ im _possible?

“Jack, meet Rhys,” Jack I said, gesturing to his PA. He was grinning with wicked humor. 

“Er...hello,” Jack II raised a hand. Rhys frowned. 

“Does he have another name? Jack & Jack is kinda confusing…” Rhys asked, shifting his gaze back to the original Jack. Jack sighed. 

“His name is Tim. I hired him years ago to be reconstructed into my body double.”

“Why’d you do it?” Rhys blurted out, turning to Tim. He scratched the back of his neck abashedly. 

“I had a lot of student loans to pay off…” He muttered. Jack grinned. 

“And I had a lot of money. Win-win situation don’t you think?”

Tim chuckled nervously. The body double reached up and unhooked the buckles outlining his pale face and peeled it away. With the mask off, he was a totally different person. He had rosy cheeks and a field of freckles splattered across his cheeks and nose. His multicolored eyes were slightly rounder, and Rhys was quick to notice he was lacking the gray streak of hair Jack had going on. 

Tim smiled sheepishly. 

“There, now it’s easy to tell us apart.”

He extended a hand towards Rhys. Rhys accepted it with his flesh arm and gave Tim a firm handshake. 

“Nice to meet you, I’m Rhys,” Rhys greeted.

“I’m glad we could meet,” TIm beamed. Rhys stepped back and looked over at Jack. Jack was sipping his coffee. He looked up at both Tim and Rhys’s gaze on him. 

“Oh, are you done? Finally. Tim is here because me and you, sugar are going down to Pandora again,” Jack dropped casually on the conversation. Wow. Way to go Jack. Just throw that into a conversation casually why don’t you. Casting a glare at a very pleased Jack, Rhys then groaned and placed his head in his hands. 

“God, do I have to go back?”

“Yep!”

Tim looked back and forth between them, watching their conversation with curiosity. _ Yeah, I know. It’s weird to see someone talking to Handsome Jack and not begging for their life. Don’t ask me why or how, cause I have NO idea! _ Rhys’s anxious thoughts cut in. Rhys looked up at Jack with a painful expression.

“How long is the trip going to be? Also will I be shot again? I kinda need to know because of...insurance issues…” Rhys asked with a strained look. Jack’s grin widened. 

“Getting shot is just the fun of it! The last Raider attack was a coincidence, I don’t think the Raiders knew that I, specifically would be there that day. But if it happens again, I hate to say that it won’t be a coincidence. 

“Bring the shield I gave you and your weapons, just incase we have uninvited guests or if a couple bandits run into us,” Jack advised. Rhys nodded.

“We should be gone for no more than a day and a half. Tim’s here because I have a couple departments I need to whip into shape, and I can’t do that while I’m gone,” Jack explained taking another sip of his drink. 

“Oh,” Rhys started, smally. Tim leaned forwards towards Rhys. 

“I hate this part of my job,” he whispered. Jack frowned. 

“I heard that, moron. And you should learn to love it. It’s all part of your grand act as the great Handsome Jack,” Jack proclaimed. Tim chuckled nervously. 

“Yeah...I know,” he winced. 

“Where on Pandora are we going?” Rhys asked curiously. 

“A very secret lab in the Highlands. It’s where the moonshot eridium power sources are made. Real powerful and kinda unstable, actually,” Jack made a face. 

“But that just makes it more fun! It’s also a secret place, the Crimson Raiders shouldn’t know about it, so don’t worry about getting shot,” Jack gave Rhys a thumbs up enthusiastically. Rhys was very much not enthused. He sighed. 

“When are we leaving?”

“Tomorrow morning!”

Tomorrow morning. Fantastic. Wonderful. Rhys had 24 hours to prepare himself. Oh man, this was not going to be fun. More fast moving vehicles hurtling through space. 

“Well,” Rhys started, smoothing out his vest. 

“I’d uh...I'd better get to work...and also prepare...for another traumatic trip back down there...as you know,” he stammered out, gesturing with his thumb over his shoulder. Jack waved at him. 

“Go on. Shoo. I’ll see you later this afternoon,” Jack dismissed. Rhys gave Tim a goodbye wave and then turned. He briskly stepped across the floor and crossed to the door. Rhys could feel two sets of eyes burning into his back. He tried to shake off their stares. The door slid open. Meg was still fast asleep. Rhys quietly stepped past her and escaped out into the corridor with a sigh of relief. 

————--

Rhys made sure to make his explanation to Vaughn as vague as possible. He didn’t want Vaughn worrying about him.

“Oh it’s just some run down factory on Pandora, I don’t know why Handsome Jack is so interested in it. But I’m leaving again. I’ll be back in a couple days. If I’m not back by then...uh...I’m still probably fine so don’t worry.”

Rhys thought that was a good enough explanation. Vaughn just sort of accepted it. Happily? No, he was very concerned, but Rhys brushed him off and reassured him things would all be fine. Yeah. It probably wouldn’t be fine. Handsome Jack and Pandora in the same sentence meant trouble no matter which way you looked at it. 

And so, Rhys retreated to his bedroom for the night in order to mentally prepare himself to the trip to come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Schools started back up so expect chapters to be out about once a week again :[ I'm hoping to finish the fic by the end of January and have the full thing published n finished by the middle of February tho :]


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My longest chapter yet 8k words! I hope it was worth the week wait

Rhys met Jack in his office. Earlier, Jack had told him no coffee that morning, he wanted Rhys at the office early and ready to go at a moment’s notice. 

So here the two of them were. Rhys had equipped his protective fire shield and his elemental weapon was holstered to his waist. He spied several pistols hanging at Jack’s belt and he spotted the tip of another peeking out of his pant leg at the ankle. Of course Jack’s masked expression betrayed nothing but his usual charm but that didn’t fool Rhys. 

Jack was definitely paranoid after what happened last time. He wasn’t the only one. 

The night before this one Rhys spent an hour pacing around his room repeating the same words to himself over and over as if saying them out loud would deem them true.

“I will not be sick on the transports. I will not be sick on the transports. I will not be sick on the transports. I will–”

Whether his crazed ramble worked or not, was about to be decided. 

Jack lead the way down to the transport bay, Rhys by his side. As they ambled across Helios, Rhys found it to be extremely reminiscent of their past trip to Pandora. The two of them walked on the very same route down to the hangar. Rhys winced, remembering the undesirable events of their previous trip. He really, really hoped Jack wouldn’t have to carry his unconscious bleeding body all the way back up to Helios again. That would be worst case scenario. 

Best case scenario would be, they get in, they get out, no issues or complications. Was that really too much to ask for? Probably. 

————--

Rhys took a deep breath and clenched his fists. He was here. It was time. They had entered the hangar and crossed the wide open floor to an available shuttle. Shuttle two. With every step, Rhys had been reluctant. He had to physically force his legs to move onwards towards his worst nightmare. Urghhhh he realllly reallly hated the transports. 

Now, facing the open shuttle doors, Rhys was ready to turn tail and bolt. He had no desire to experience the nauseating high-speed hurtle through space again. 

“Move it, you’re in the way,” Jack shoved him forwards.

“I'm. Working. On. It.” Rhys snapped back. Gritting his teeth, he gulped and lifted his timid foot, setting it over the line into the shuttle. He was now one foot into hell. 

Slow, sarcastic clapping sounded behind Rhys and he scowled. 

“Great job, Rhysie. You can walk one single friggin’ step. Now would you hurry up? My legs are gettin’ sore waiting for your slow ass to GET MOVING,” Jack physically shoved Rhys forwards, causing him to lose his footing. Stumbling, Rhys regained his balance by grabbing onto the thin center pole of the interior for support. Jack pushed past him to the nose of the shuttle. He raised his hands to the holographic controls lighting up under his presence. 

Rhys practically collapsed into the nearest seat and grasped the handle pole in front of him. The shuttle doors slid shut with a loud bang. Rhys glanced over to Jack. He watched the other man’s fingers fly across the holographic keyboard. The suddenly shuttle lurched forwards into immediate high speeds. Being jostled back and forth by the launching of the space-craft, Rhys groaned putting his head in his hands, feeling the contents of his stomach sloshed around in a much less than desirable fashion. To his dismay he discovered that he was indeed, sick on the transports.

Jack sauntered over and sat down beside him. Rhys paid him no mind, face still buried in his hands. Jack jovially slung an arm over Rhys’s shoulders.

“Don’t worry! You’ll feel better when we land on the planet full of murderous people and creatures that all want to eat your face off,” He reassured Rhys pleasantly, patting him on the back. Rhys batted him away and shoved Jack’s arm off him. 

“Fuck off,” he retorted irately. Jack laughed and swung to his feet, clearly unbothered by the high speeds. 

“It’s a slightly longer ride, we’re headed to a different part of Pandora,” Jack informed him. Rhys groaned.

“I’ll just be over here then...sick,” he muttered, struggling to keep his insides down. Jack skidded back over to the control panel and flopped down into the single seat at the nose of the ship. 

“Just don’t throw up on anything or I might actually shoot you, for real,” Jack warned cheerfully, aiming a finger gun at Rhys with a wink.

“Just–just shut up, your motivation attempts are not helpful, I’m literally–HRRG–” Rhys groaned as he felt the ship curve to the left. 

“You probably won’t even appreciate what I’m saying right now anyways. Fine,” Jack crossed his arms, miffed. Rhys sighed. Between Jack’s morbid optimism and the nauseating shuttle, this was going to feel like a really. Really long ride. 

————-

The shuttle arrived down at a station on Pandora’s surface. The landing station was a small rectangular building guarded by several dozen loader bots patrolling it’s perimeter. As soon as the two of them touched down and the doors re-opened, Rhys escaped the pod and dashed out into the building. He staggered to the nearest exit and burst into the fresh Pandoran air. Taking a deep breath of air, he sighed, feeling slightly better. His insides settled for a moment. Hope shot through Rhys. Maybe he wouldn’t throw up?

Just kidding. He heaved into the nearest bush and coughed, feeling the burn in his throat. 

“Oh my god that was disgusting,” Jack remarked from behind him. Rhys turned around, and coughed. 

“Fuck you. It’s your fault for watching. Do you have any water?” Rhys asked, shielding his eyes from the sun and squinting up at Jack. Jack looked down at him, hands on his hips. 

“You know what? No. No I don’t. And I’m not going to give you any because of the tone you’re using to talk to me right now.”

“I am so incredibly sorry for cursing at The Great Handsome Jack, Ruler of Hyperion and I’m begging on my metaphorical knees for his forgiveness and that god forbid I say fuck in front of him again,” Rhys forced a pained smile at the taller man, sarcasm dripping from his words. Jack grinned at Rhys’s sharp sarcastic retaliation.

“You’re getting more and more like me everyday, I swear. Just blow off a couple heads and we’ll be indistinguishable.”

Rhys frowned. In all honesty, he wasn’t sure becoming more like Jack was a positive thing. He doubled over in a sudden bought of dry coughing. Jack heaved an exasperated sigh. 

“There’s water back inside, a little ways down to the right. Meet me back out here in two minutes. We gotta schedule to keep,” Jack jerked a thumb over his shoulder pointing behind him. Rhys grinned, giving a weak thumbs up and hurried back inside. 

—————

After Rhys had re-emerged from the building, he followed Jack’s lead out past the ring of loader bot defenses and out into the desert-like conditions. Shielding his eyes, Rhys took in his surroundings. His ECHOeye flickered to life upon registering unknown terrain. He was standing on the edge of what looked like a desert. Tall orange spires of sandstone rock jutted up from the ground in the distance. Hot sand blew over the terrain. 

In the distance, tiny black spots indicated clusters of shelters, hidden behind dunes or spires. The sun beat down on Rhys’s shoulders and he suddenly began to sweat under the sweltering heat in his long-sleeved clothes. He cursed, rolling up his left sleeve and cuffing the bottoms of his pants. Glancing over at Jack, he seemed unfazed by the heat. Even with his long-ass coat. 

Blue symbols, numbers and letters lined the corner of Rhys’s ECHOeye vision. Altitude, temperature, climate, distance from Helios and the name of this section of Pandora. The Dust. _ Fitting name. _Rhys thought dubiously, watching the clouds of sand roll over in the light breeze. 

He strolled along next to Jack, who made light talk. But Rhys was more focused on his surroundings. In the distance he could see tiny black specks roaming the sands. Squinting, they appeared to be fast-moving vehicles. Whatever they were, Jack appeared to be heading in their general direction. 

Speaking of, where were they headed? Rhys looked over to Jack. 

“–the people. So you gotta scare them, kill a couple, then the rest of them start running around like chickens with their heads cut off–”

“Hey,” Rhys interrupted Jack’s questionably moralistic ramble on crowd control. Jack’s words came to a halt, he paused mid gesture and scowled, glancing down at Rhys. 

“Where are we even going?”

“I already told you. Secret labs dum-dum. They’re across the way in the Highlands. If we’re ever going to get there, we need transport. There’s an abandoned eridium oil town just up here. There's a Catch-A-Ride station we can get to,” Jack explained. 

Catch-A-Ride. That was familiar. They were Raider operated stations. A faint memory surfaced and crossed Rhys’s mind. There used to be a Catch-A-Ride just outside his old town from his childhood. He and a couple of his sisters would often meet there. They’d clambered all over the display, inside and out, manipulating wires and screws for fun. 

Rhys knew how those things ticked. He could take one apart and put it together in five minutes. He felt a tang of excitement and a small sense of melancholy. Being back on Pandora with these familiar aspects left him with a lingering tang of sadness. 

Looking up into the blazing sun, Rhys wiped his forehead clear of sweat. Using his hand as a shield against the blinding sunlight, he gazed off into the horizon. His sharpened vision picked up a silhouette off in the distance. Oh. The town wasn’t too far. He could make out the large spire sticking up into the sky which marked the old eridium drill driven through the ground. Just beside the rig was a small town, abandoned from the looks of it. 

From what Rhys could make out at this distance, the roofs of small shacks were agape with holes. The walls sagged. Yep, if there was a need for an example of a ghost-town, this would be it. 

But Rhys and Jack were still a considerable distance from their destination. Rhys estimated they’d reach their destination in thirty minutes. He was beginning to feel tired. They’d already walked a great deal, and his legs were starting to sore. Goddamnit, why hadn’t he just taken Vaughn’s offer to visit the gym? Regrettably, Rhys glared down at his skinny pale ankles. He was a fucking twig.

The two walked on in a short silence. Rhys surveyed their surroundings in both caution and curiosity about the foreign landscape. As far as he could tell, there were no large alien predators or bandits nearby. Their walk had been fairly uneventful, and dare he say it: peaceful. He grinned. 

“–And you said there would be stuff waiting here to tear my face off,” Rhys elbowed Jack. A smirk spread across Jack’s mask. 

“We’re in range of Hyperion cannons. Oh, sure there’s nothing deadly here but the cannon range ends just before we hit the town. ‘Might wanna buckle up soon, sugar ‘cause shit hasn’t even begun yet,” he gave Rhys a toothy grin. Rhys heaved a sigh, his excitement dampened. Wow. That sounded bloody awful. He couldn’t wait. 

—————

At last, the town finally drew near. Deciding to listen to Jack’s ‘advice’, Rhys drew his pistol, just in case. Jack on the other hand simply swaggered about with no hint of caution or fear. The two men approached the crumbling structures. Tattered clothes hung over the entrances of rusting shacks. They strolled in between the ruins.

Rhys couldn’t shake the feeling of uneasiness from the place. It used to be a live town, people would live here. But not anymore. It was almost saddening.

“Aha!” Jack suddenly exclaimed. He pointed across the way. Following his finger, Rhys set eyes on the Catch-A-Ride station. It consisted of a metal platform with two tire tracks and a rectangular box control panel. He breathed a sigh of relief. Thank god he wouldn’t have to walk any farther. 

The two of them approached the panel. 

“You probably have no idea how to work on of these bad boys,” Jack cracked his knuckles and grinned. Rhys knew exactly how to work one of these ‘bad boys’ thank you very much. Now Jack on the other hand...Rhys had the sneaking suspicion Jack was actually clueless about how to work this particular bandit machine. Judging by the fact that Jack was standing at the panel screen, ready to type away, Rhys guessed he’d never used one of these ‘bad boys’ before. Jack had no idea what was waiting for him. Or rather, who was waiting for him. Rhys smiled sweetly.

“We’ll then I’m sure you can show me,” he replied, just a hint of sarcasm flitting through his tone. Jack narrowed his eyes, suspicious at Rhys’s sweet attitude. 

“Hmph. Ok. Just watch and learn then.” 

He flicked a couple fingers across the screen. 

“Unauthorized user deee-tected! Tryna hack ma’ Catch-A-Ride?” A squeaky male voice with a distinctly (and annoying as all hell) accent piped up. Jack froze for a moment, simply staring at the screen. Confusion surprise and anger flashed across his mask all at once. Rhys burst out laughing upon seeing his reaction. 

“Oh for friggin’ bloody sake,” Jack growled. 

“Woah there ‘pal, cheer up! I can offer ya a ride, for a price. Are you by chance a wealthy bandit leader? ‘Cuz you kinda sound like it,” the voice piped up. 

“Me? _ I’m _ a bandit? A _ bandit? _ Listen, _ bud, _ I don’t know who you are pipsqueak but with that accent you'd better be off minding your own damn business and going _ back _ to _ fucking your cousin, _” Jack shook an accusing finger at the screen. 

“I should have you on your knees right now, saying sorry over and over and over begging for your life unti–”

“Alright, that’s enough,” Rhys cut him off, elbowing Jack aside and taking control, standing over the screen. 

“Sorry about him. He didn’t mean to be rude. We don’t have any money–”

“No money? No _ money? _ I am a fucking billionaire with a trillion dollar company you fucker what do yo mean n–”

“So we’ll just be on our way. Sorry for bothering,” Rhys raised his volume over Jack’s indignant retort. That voice in the box was the same one from Rhys’s childhood. He was the owner of the Catch-A-Ride stations, if not the creator. Rhys was pretty certain his name was Scooter, but he wasn’t 100% sure. 

“Alright but if ya need to Catch-A-Riiiiide!”

“Thanks,” Rhys finished, wincing at the harsh tagline. A click sounded on the screen as Scooter disconnected. Rhys glanced over to Jack who was still mildly miffed about the whole situation. Handsome Jack did not take well to being called broke by his own personal assistant. A wild grin spread across Rhys’s features. 

“You have no idea how to work one of these bad boys huh,” he echoed casting a sly grin in Jack’s direction. Jack scowled. 

“Shut up.”

Rhys laughed. 

“I’ll show you how it’s done. Give me a couple minutes to re-wire the thing, I haven’t done it in years so I might be kind of rusty,” he squatted down to the panel at the base of the station. Holding out his cybernetic arm, he traced with surface with a couple fingers. Using the edge of the metal at his knuckles, he dug into the groove of the plating and gave a solid yank. With a spark, the rectangular plate came flying off. 

“Hey, watch it!” Jack barked, narrowly avoiding contact. Rhys grinned sheepishly. 

“Sorry.”

He turned his attention back to the station. Underneath the plate was an utter tangled mess of wires. All different colors. Frowning, Rhys withdrew his hand and tapped his chin in thought. He strained, thinking as far back in his memories that he possibly could. It was the red wire...or was it blue? No, definitely red. The red wire was the one that connected Scooter to the ride station. Unnecessary. 

Rhys reached out with his metal hand and gripped the red wire. He gave it a firm tug. It sparked, and came free in his hand. 

“Don’t break it you idiot! We need it!” Jack protested indignantly. 

“Gimme a goddamn minute! I’m not done yet,” Rhys snapped back. Jack went on muttering under his breath. Shaking his head, Rhys reached in. With his flesh hand, he grasped the blue wire and using the metal tip of his finger, began to scratch at the coating. He repeated the same with the yellow wire. The blue wire was the alarm and safety system in the station. If it didn’t function, the whole thing wouldn’t function. The yellow wire transferred the codes to construct the vehicles. 

Years ago, Rhys’s little red-headed sister found a loophole in the wiring. It allowed them to use the station without fee. If you connected the blue and yellow wires, it would glitch, causing the alarms and security locks to disarm, but the station to remain functional. Why this happened, was unknown. Just one of those little loophole life hacks, ya know?

Brushing off his hands, Rhys clambered to his feet and stepped back. Putting his hands on his hips, he admired his handiwork. 

“Ooook. And what was that supposed to do?” Jack asked, skeptically. 

“Try the screen again.”

“Will that weird-ass cousin-fucker be there?”

“Naw, shouldn’t be anymore.”

“Cool.”

Jack made another attempt with the Catch-A-Ride interface. After a couple furious taps to the screen, his face lit up. 

“Holy shit, sugar, it actually worked!”

“You’re welcome,” Rhys shoved his hands in his pockets, beaming. He didn’t bother to hide his pride. Jack tapped a few things on screen. And then in a few whirs, holographic noises and blue-white lights, suddenly there was a large vehicle beside them. Camo colored, open on all sides. A gunner seat sat on top. Rhys squinted at it curiously. 

“It’s a runner. With a rocket launcher,” Jack added helpfully. Rhys winced, only now remembering that quick moving vehicles made him violently nauseous. 

“Err...how fast does it go?” He asked painfully. 

“Hella!” Jack replied enthusiastically. 

“Are you sure it's absolutely necessary to take this kind of transport…?”

Jack was already climbing into the driver's seat. He ran his hands over the wheel and then turned to glare at Rhys who was still warily standing outside. He smirked.

“How about I just leave you here for the badass skags and the bandits that roam this territory huh? You gonna get your face ripped off and eaten by them, or come with Handsome Jack?”

Rhys sighed. He dragged his feet around the runner to the passengers side. Oh man he really, REALLY REALLY DID NOT like fast moving vehicles, as stated many previous times. This is just to really solidify the fact he in fact, hated high velocity speeds with everything he had. Jack let out a raucous bark. 

“Get in loser! We’re going across the Dust!”

\-----------

Holy fucking shit. Rhys was in shambles by the end of their little friendly trip in the runner across the Dust.

FIRST OFF. Jack drove like a complete fucking lunatic. (Although that was sort of expected) He was like...like...a fucking...man tripping acid at the wheel. Erratic, out of his fucking mind, either suicidal or didn’t fear god. Probably both. Pedal to the goddamn floor, the whole fucking time. Rhys was fairly sure they never dipped below ninety. The needle pointed solidly towards the one-fifty miles an hour mark on the speedometer for the entire way. AND THAT WAS JUST ONE ASPECT OF THEIR HORRIBLE DRIVE.

They were traveling across the Dust. A dangerous area to roam due to its infestation of cannibalistic psychos, spiderants and skags intent on blood. Although, rarely were sprinting skags able to keep up with their runner. The lucky few were quickly shot down by Rhys’s own hand with nothing but his explosive, acidic pistol. 

At one point a bandit car had pulled up beside them. Oh man, that had been an ordeal. It was a terrifying event, Jack completely abandoned the wheel to jump up into the gunner turret, leaving it up to a scared-out-of-his-mind Rhys to take control of the wheel. Between the fucking lunatic in the gunner turret up top, the cannibalistic psychos in the car attacking them and an incredibly sick Rhys at the wheel, let’s just say there was a lot of screaming, explosions and bullets. 

The two had driven all the way out the other side of the Dust and entered into the Highlands. They traveled for about twenty minutes across this new terrain. The change of scenery was rather relieving. Green jagged mountains rose from the ground. No more skags, only stalkers roamed here. Jack suddenly yanked the wheel to the left and they turned onto another path that spiraled upwards. About halfway up one of the numerous mountains, the vehicle spun to a halt and Rhys clutched the side rail, just barely hanging on. 

“We’re here!” Jack proclaimed, skipping out of the runner with clear energy. Rhys simply sat frozen. He tried to move his legs but he was feeling incredibly weak and his knees shook. Nausea washed over him. He covered his mouth with his hands and squeezed his eyes shut, trying desperately to keep his stomach contents down. 

Staggering out of the passenger seat, Rhys swayed and tripped over his feet across the hood of the vehicle. In order to regain his footing, he leaned against the runner for support and groaned. 

“I am never doing that again,” he hissed. Jack elbowed him. 

“C’mon, admit it! It was fun!”

“I’m literally about to throw up,” Rhys coughed violently, retching. Head spinning, he took several deep breaths of the crisp Highland air before straightening up. Jack threw an elbow across his shoulders. Rhys winced. 

“Let’s go cupcake,” he guided Rhys away from the car. Rhys was too weak to even verbally protest. 

“We’re already running late. I’ll help ya, just don’t throw up on me, ‘kay?” 

“Yeah yeah,” Rhys mumbled, concentrating on his own footsteps. One in front of the other. Easy, easy, that’s it. Jack was leading him up into a cave. Entering, both of their footsteps echoed about the enclosed space. Rhys looked up, old stalker leftovers lined the walls and ceiling. They were old and dry. Whatever colony that used to inhabit this place was long gone.

Down just a short ways into the rocky cave, the path split off into two. Jack turned to the right, Rhys in tow. In front of them was a steel door, approximately three men wide and two tall. A yellow line was painted through the middle. It had no discernible handle. Instead, a keypad sat to the left, the green screen lightly glowing through the darkness. Looking up, Rhys noted a row of strange metal alcoves on the ceiling.

He studied them for a moment before he recognized them. That executive party so long ago with the loader bots…

The door appeared unguarded, however Rhys could see it was anything but. Cameras were stationed just above the steel door, aimed directly at him and Jack. Those loader bot alcoves had the power to swing open without warning at any moment. Awesome. 

Jack withdrew his his arm from Rhys’s shoulders and patted him on the back. 

“Hope you’re feelin’ better, we’ve still got a lot to do.”

“Just wonderful,” Rhys sighed woefully. Jack ambled over to the keypad. Laying his hand flat, a white light read his palm. A beep sounded and the doors slid open with a groan, gears straining on invisible pulleys. Jack spun around and gave Rhys a thumbs up. 

“Hurry up! We gotta schedule to keep!” He then turned and swept inside. Rhys hurried after him with long strides. 

Behind the door was a circular room. A yellow door was stationed to the right. There was a desk stationed in the middle with an employee sitting just behind it. It was a high counter, with glass encasing the man inside. He straightened up at Jack’s appearance.

“Good afternoon, sir. We’ve been expecting you. Ms. Ridsdale, our chief scientist will be out shortly,” He informed the two. Jack put his hands on his hips.

“Well tell her to get here sooner, I don’t like waiti–”

“Sir!” 

The door to the side of the desk slid open and a young woman stepped out. She wore a typical long white lab coat. Her hair was pinned up in a messy bun. Upon further inspection...it appeared that her gloved hands were emitting a low purple light. Using his ECHOeye, Rhys studied them. His scan revealed high traces of eridium. He glanced at the scientist up and down. Actually, her whole body was emitting a faint purple glow. 

“You’re Ridsdale? Great. I want you lead us through the labs in there, I wanna make sure–hold on a moment, are your hands glowing?” Jack’s attention was suddenly directed to her purple hands which were emitting a soft light. Ms. Ridsdale nodded.

“There’s so much eridium and eridium power stored here, us, the employees have started to feel some side-effects,” she explained. Jack’s eyes widened. 

“Well are you taking notes? Do you have data on how the eridium is mutating the humans here?” He asked, voice raised. Ms. Ridsdale nodded. 

“Yes, sir. We were sure to take data and observations down as soon as it started, sir. We’ve actually added a new department down here just for those studies,” she explained, putting her hands on her hips proudly. 

“I’ll want that data as soon as I’m finished with routine check-up, you hear me?”

“Yes, sir!” 

“Good. Now show us the labs, I have some new shit I wanna implement,” Jack ordered. Ms. Ridsdale spun on one booted foot and gestured at Rhys and Jack to follow her. 

“The labs are just down this way. Follow me, sirs!”

\----------

In short, Rhys was in awe at his surroundings. The three of them were in a massive corridor, the ceiling a good twenty feet above their heads. Different doors and smaller hallways branched off from the main. Shiny metal pipes ran above their heads. Several clear tubes ran alongside them, full of a sloshing, glowing purple substance. Melted Eridium. The tubes ran down the hall and out of sight. Ms. Ridsdale was leading them towards that direction. 

Scientists and employees hurried about, in and out of rooms. Passing Jack, they’d respectively dip their heads or mumble, 

“Good day, sir.”

At one point, the trio was passed through a giant, spacious room. Rhys sucked in a breath, taking it all in. The ceiling was twice the usual height. Scientists and employees in hazmat suits handled huge, huge stacks of eridium bars. The whole room was filled to the brim with the stuff. A purple hue cast over Rhys’s features and his jaw hit the floor. He’d never seen so much eridium before. Jack grinned. 

“Cool right? This is one of my best facilities,” he remarked lightly.

“Holy shit, what do you even do with all this,” Rhys asked in awe. 

“This particular place is just for making the Moonshot power cores,” Jack explained. Rhys knew Hyperion had a lot of eridium. This wasn’t even half of it but Rhys could barely comprehend such a vast quantity. There had to be like...what...three billion ingots in this room?

Ms. Ridsdale led them out of the room, and took a hard left. A couple scientists hurried past them in the opposite direction. Down this hallway was a steel door with a massive warning label smacked in the middle of it. A small window was stationed to the side. Ms. Ridsdale took a brief peek in before shaking her head. 

“They’re in the process of packing in more eridium right now. The core a little too unstable, it’s not safe for us to enter,” she explained. Jack grunted dejectedly. 

“Damn. Oh well. Hey! You have those reports of how the eridium is affecting you guys?”

“Yes, sir. We cleaned out one of the old labs and turned it into a hospice for some employees with strange side-affects. It’s mostly just their skin glowing–” she broke off and gestured to her purple-illuminated hands. 

“–but prolonged exposure to this much also causes their eyes to develop a purple film. Apparently they can still see, but with a purple lense...I guess? It’s all purely cosmetic, however. Unfortunately, we haven’t discovered any superpowers,” she rambled, leading Rhys and Jack back down the hall. She gestured as she talked. 

Rhys wasn’t really listening, both he and Jack were making their own quiet conversation behind her. Jack was explaining to a delighted Rhys how the moonshot functioned. Rhys had taken up a fascination in Jack’s superweapon ever since he had to get it fixed that one time. Also technology was just fascinating in general. 

They had been walking for only a few minutes and Rhys was just beginning to feel a sense of calm when suddenly his vision flashed red. He instinctively grabbed onto Jack’s arm in fear and surprise as the lights flickered off.

A wailing flashing alarm echoed throughout the facility. The security system was going haywire. In the dim, flashing red light, Ms. Ridsdale spun around as a clamor of yells began. Her silhouette gave off a faint glow, making her easy to spot. 

“Shit! I just got word–Someone’s broken through the loader bots outside,” she cursed. Jack shook Rhys off. 

“Who?” He demanded, over the wailing alarm. A panicked clamor was beginning to rise from scientists, and doors were opening and closing in a frenzy. People ran past them in all different directions. Rhys could hear his own heartbeat roaring in his ears. Fear coursed through him and he whipped around amidst the confusion. What was happening? What–

“I don’t know!” Ms. Ridsdale shouted. She raised a glowing hand to her ear, listening over comm. 

“It’s–It’s a siren! The one leading that bandit group. She brought company,” Ms. Ridsdale confirmed. Jack swore violently. Ms. Ridsdale was taking a few steps back in the opposite direction which they’d come from. 

“I-I gotta get people into the bunker. Only half our employees have guns and we don’t have that many guards because this location is supposed to be secret!” She cursed, turning her back. Rhys watched her dash down a separate corridor. She was yelling orders at the disorganized mass of people pushing through the halls. 

Jack grabbed Rhys’s metal wrist and yanked him to the nearest door. They ducked inside. The wailing red siren noise was slightly muffled here. The room behind the door was a now-abandoned lab, purple chemicals still sat in vials on the counter. Jack released his grip and instead furiously aimed a vicious kick at the nearest table, toppling it and sending several of the vials crashing to the floor. 

“FUCKING. FUCK. STUPID AGHHH,” he shouted, enraged. 

“STUPID FUCKING SIREN AND HER FUCKING RAIDERS ILL FUCKING–”

“WHAT IS GOING ON?” Rhys wailed in confusion and fear. The Raiders? The fucking Crimson Raiders? What–

“Crimson Raiders, idiot! They’re back!” Jack shouted, at equal volume. Rhys let out a shout and too, kicked the nearest table. Table-kicking was an appropriate method of getting emotions out. 

“No! No not again. I can’t-can’t do this...No-I AM NOT GETTING SHOT AGAIN–” terror shot through him like a sharpened knife. Oh god, he couldn’t do this again. Last time he was fatally shot. And last time it was just bandits. This time, there was a siren. A bloody fucking siren. Jack seized both of Rhys’s arms and shook him. 

“Snap out of it!’ 

Jack’s eyes were wild. He drew two of the pistols at his belt and used one of his hands to smack the glowing blue shield strapped to his thigh. A blue light raced up and down his body and he glared at Rhys. 

“Get your shield on!” He shouted. 

“There’s only one entrance to this damned place and we’re gonna have to fight our way out,” Jack informed him. Bangs and screams came flooding from outside the door. Rhys cringed, fingers fumbling at the shield on his belt. 

“Here, take these! Just in case,” Jack tossed a couple of grenades towards Rhys who yelped and stuttered with the catch. He tucked them too under his belt. Shield activated and his gun in hand, Rhys was on the verge of breaking down. His gun-hand was mildly quivering. He couldn’t do this, not again. 

“Are you sure we can’t hide and wait for them to leave?” Rhys squeaked. Jack shrugged. 

“I mean, we could. But there’s an angry siren here. This place is chock full of eridium. She’ll probably destabilize the core just by her presence,” he said nonchalantly, picking at his nails. Right on cue, the whole room shook, toppling additional glass vials to the ground. Purple eridium substance was flowing across the floor. 

Jack was right. They had to get out of here. Goddamnit. This whole trip had already turned upside down. Rhys smacked his forehead.

“Fine! I get it! We have to go, what do we do?”

“We got...probably fifteen minutes to get out of here, tops,” Jack proclaimed. He grabbed Rhys’s left shoulder. 

“You’ll be fine. Stick with me just like last time and we’ll get out of here no problem. Hopefully with some bandit heads too!” he assured him. Rhys stared back at him, eyes wide with fear. 

“Okay, okay. Let’s just get this over with,” he nodded, forcing back his fear. Jack patted his shoulder. 

“Good. Come on! Let’s go kill some bandits!”

\-----------

Not a good time. Not a fun time. No, it was fucking awful. Shit, there were so many bodies. Both belonged to Hyperion and the bandits, Rhys felt sick. He tripped over several limbs on their fight towards the exit. Yeah yeah, the pistol worked great. Dropped it’s targets a little too quickly. Amusedly Rhys found that his victims really did drop like flies. Although the number of bullets he had left was slowly dwindling. 

“Exit is just up here!” Jack proclaimed in between the ring of his gunshots. Rhys had one clip left of ammunition. Alright, this was okay, they were close to the exit. Hope flitted through Rhys. They could make it out of here. 

The whole facility was beginning to experience tremors. A rumbling sound was bubbling up from back down in the direction of the core. The small light of hope was quickly quenched as fear shot through Rhys. Would they make it out in time? 

“Wooh, that’s another one!” Jack laughed, whirling around and headshotting a guy right in the forehead. 

“There!” Rhys managed out, pointing with the gun past Jack. The main door was up ahead. A newfound energy coiled through him. One last push. A mixture of a few dozen bandits and scientists blocked their way to the exit. There was something else in the fray up ahead too. Or rather someone. A glowing orange light peeked through the mass of writhing bodies.

“Oh that’s Lilith all right,” Jack remarked, wiping a splatter of blood off his mask. The orange light peaking through the cracks suddenly exploded into a glowing ball of brilliant light. Rhys shielded his eyes. Jack chuckled as a clamor rose up from what few bandits were left. 

“Firehawk!”

Fire fucking hawk indeed. A glowing woman with flaming red hair stepped out from the fray. Two massive flaming hot wings protruded from her shoulders. A siren, in her full glory. Lilith. 

White-hot tattoos spiraled down her arm curling into her fist. Her eyes were wild, and illuminated orange with a deadly piercing gaze. Her eyes briefly widened at the sight of Jack. With an enraged cry she leapt forwards and promptly vanished without warning. She had disappeared right in front of Rhys’s very eyes. One of the feared abilities of a siren. Phasewalking. 

Rhys whirled around. Jack was tensed. Something between a grin and a grimace was twisted into his mask. He had both pistols raised and at the ready. 

“She’s gonna pop up any m–”

A wave of heat crashed over them and Rhys was thrown backwards by a miniature explosion. Lilith had materialized between him and Jack, her wings tossing Rhys backwards. His body slammed into the ground. He gasped as the air was suddenly sucked from his lungs. Chest heaving, he struggled to breath. Blood dripped down in his eyes from a cut across his forehead. Wiping away with his metal hand he groaned, struggling upright. 

Through his bloody gaze, he saw the siren send Jack tumbling into the nearest wall. The wall shook and spiderweb cracks ran along the crackling cement. 

“‘Sup,” she growled a gun suddenly spun into her hand. Jack rolled away from the wall just as she popped off several shots. Two hit him square on, but were absorbed by his shield. The third shattered it. He narrowly avoided the rest. Struggling to his feet, blood dribbled down the cheekbones of his mask.

“What are you trying to do?” Jack began a wicked taunt with a sly grin. He was enjoying himself. 

“Kill Handsome Jack? Go home, have a beer...maybe celebrate with your boyfriend...oh! Wait! Oh my god, I’m so sorry I forgot!” Jack made a pouty face, smacking one of his hands over his forehead for the full effect. Lilith let out a cry of rage and wound up her fist. Orange energy crackled from her knuckles and she swung forwards with incredible power. Jack blocked her fiery blow with his own hand before letting out a yell at his own foolish mistake. As soon as her fist connected with Jack’s skin he was thrown backwards in a bright orange glow.

As the light faded, Rhys caught sight of Jack encased in some sort of orange bubble. He appeared to be frozen, unable to move in Lilith’s phaselock bubble. His eyes were lit with fury and he clutched the gun in his fingertips. Rhys had to do something, or Jack was about to be shot point blank. 

“Hey!” Rhys interjected. From his position on the ground, he raised his pistol and squeezed the trigger. Lilith whipped around just as a fire bullet singed the flesh of her shoulder, sinking into the wall just above Jack’s frozen form. Shit. 

She lunged forwards, faster than he could follow and threw him against the nearest wall. Rhys’s pistol clattered to the floor as he scrabbled uselessly at her iron grip. She pinned him upright with a gloved hand around his throat. Hissing, her eyes were alight with fury,

“I don’t know who you are and I don’t care, Hyperion scum. You best stay out of this, it doesn’t concern you,” she spat, raising up the pistol in her spare hand. Rhys scrabbled helplessly at her fingers crushing his throat. Even with his metal arm it was useless, her iron grip was too strong for him to throw off. He choked and spluttered, trying to form words. As he stared into her furious, flaming gaze the only thought that crossed his mind was, 

_ Holy shit. I’m really going to die here. For real. By a friggin’ siren. _

Just then, by some wild stroke of luck, a huge tremor wracked the facility. A powerful roar of flames echoed up from below. The eridium core downstairs had reached a peak. The ground beneath everybodies feet shook and pebbles of debris danced across the floor. The ceiling cracked and began to crumble, considerable sized chunks of limestone and concrete crashing to the floor. Amidst the destruction, Lilith suddenly gasped. Rhys watched with wide fearful eyes as a sharp flash of purple ribbons wracked her body. The very space around her was glowing purple. A massive wave of airborne eridium power slammed into her. Rhys watched as the fury in her eyes dimmed.

Her fingers loosened on his throat and she teetered backwards, crashing to the floor, her orange wings folding in to cushion her fall. 

She lay sprawled on the ground, ceiling chunks falling about her frail purple body. The unstable eridium core had shot an enormous amount of eridium power into her being, completely overwhelming her senses. So much power had been injected into her body at once, her very cells crackled with energy and shut down. 

Rhys slid down from the wall. He snatched his pistol off the ground and turned away from Lilith’s vulnerable form, sprinting to Jack’s side. 

Jack was unsteadily rising from the ground, his feet dragging across the floor. He was littered with bruises. His mask was covered in grime and blood and his hair was coated in a thin film of sweat and crimson liquid. Scrapes from being tossed around like a damned ragdoll covered his torn clothes. 

He staggered to his feet and immediately groaned, clutching at his right side. 

“I cracked a fucking rib,” he hissed. The building shook and Jack’s unsteady form nearly toppled to the floor before Rhys was able to catch him. He slung Jack’s arm over his shoulder for support. 

“We have to get out of here!” Rhys insisted, dragging his injured boss forwards. What few Hyperion and Raiders alike had already fled. Jack planted his heels and tried to turn around. 

“No! I gotta finish the bastard,” he growled, trying to turn back to Lilith’s limp form. 

“She’ll be crushed by the building! So will we if we don’t fucking go _ right now _,” Rhys shouted at him, pulling him away. 

“It’s not the same!” Jack snarled. 

“Drop your enormous friggin’ ego for one fucking minute! Dead is dead! We have to get the hell out of here!” Rhys wrenched Jack in the opposite direction. In one rare, glorious moment, Jack heeded Rhys’s words. The two of them half ran, half stumbled upwards towards the exit as the roar of billowing purple smoke fired up the hallway behind them. 

They burst out of the mountainside. Fresh crisp air hit Rhys’s lungs and he gasped. Searching around, they found few abandoned bandit vehicles sitting around the entrance. Surprisingly, their runner was left untouched over to the left. 

“I call drivers seat!” Jack insisted, a wild bloodstained grin twisted into his mask. He let go of Rhys’s shoulders and practically fell onto the wheel. Rhys swung into the passenger's seat beside him. 

“Go! Go!” 

“I’m fucking working on it, cupcake!” Jack shouted. Rhys swore he could hear panic in his tone. 

The engine revved and Jack’s hands flew across the wheel. In no time, he had them turned around in a complete 180º and took off down the mountainside. Just in the nick of time, too. Rhys leaned out of the open-sided vehicle and strained to look behind them. A huge bang sounded as a mess of purple flames and smoke came hurtling out of the mountainside, shaking the ground. 

The explosion sent rocks from the mountainside tumbling down. Rhys whipped back around. 

“Shit! Look out!” He shouted as a considerable sized chunk of rubble barreled towards them. Jack jerked the wheel to the right to try and avoid collision but the massive rock still slammed into their side, nearly flipping the runner. Rhys let out a yell as he was violently jerked to the side.

Jack pressed down on the pedal and sped as fast as he could away from the mountainside. A black plume of smoke was rising from their hood. 

“Well that’s just fan–FUCKING–tastic!” Jack cursed at the damaged vehicle as he whipped around the next corner. Rhys held onto the side-supports for dear life with a white-knuckled flesh hand and a scraped metal one. Adrenaline was coursing through his veins along with fear. They’d made it out of the mountain but this wasn’t over yet. 

Just at that moment, a duo of large, reptilian, winged stalkers leapt of nowhere into their path. The deadly creatures quickly faded from view and a crunch sounded on the hood. Shit, now they had fucking stalkers on their ass. 

“We’re going to die!” Rhys exclaimed fearfully, holding onto the railing of the runner for dear life. Jack was laughing maniacally. 

“You might! But dying isn’t on my agenda today, baby!” He shouted with glee, blood staining the white teeth in his wild grin. He yanked the wheel left, and Rhys saw the faint blue outlines of both stalkers go flying off the hood. Jack then jerked the wheel back right and barreled towards the stunned stalkers now in their path.

A sickening crunch sounded as the heavy wheels of their runner hit the creatures and rolled over their bodies in one quick move. Blood and stalker guts spewed out from underneath the tires. Jack gave a triumphant whoop and glanced over at Rhys’s pale fear-stricken face with a grin. 

“Look out!” Rhys’s eyes widened and he pointed just a moment too late. 

“Woah!” Jack’s eyes shot back to their path and he tried to swerve but their vehicle had picked up too much speed. A vertical cliff face had appeared out of nowhere. Their runner had swerved to avoid it but the tires slid over the ground. Rhys gripped the rails and prepared for impact. 

The runner smashed into the wall at an angle, the front left tire collapsed completely and an audible crunch of metal could be heard as the nose of the runner was compressed. Rhys was thrown forwards and he just barely managed to keep himself from flying through the windshield by wedging his metal arm between the handlebar affixed to the dashboard and the dashboard itself. 

Rhys’s entire weight was thrown into this metal arm of his. He heard a crack as the handlebar bent his cybernetic arm at an odd angle. Then everything was quiet. And still. Smoke billowed around their totaled runner. Flames began sparking up from the hood.

An strange sort of calm settled over both of them. Rhys had a new gash on the side of his head. He glanced over at Jack, heart racing. What the fuck just happened? Jack still gripped the wheel. His mouth was open slightly and he seemed to be in a daze. 

The sudden distinct smell of gas suddenly hit the roof of Rhys’s mouth. A high pitched hiss emanated from their totaled hood. 

“Fuck! It’s gonna explode!” Rhys shouted. He struggled for a moment and yanked his mangled arm out of the accursed runner. He scrambled to get out of the now-unstable vehicle. Jack sprang into action and dove out of the runner right behind him just as a tick sounded. He and Rhys stumbled a good ways away from the smoking wreckage. Rhys eyed it warily. Would it actually explode? Nothing was happening at the moment–

_ Whaboosh! _

A cloud of smoke rolled up from the ruined vehicle. Flames erupted from the engine in a roar, sending a cloud of ashes into billowing high the air. Miraculously, the shrapnel just barely missed both Jack and Rhys. 

Jack put both fists in the air and gave a celebratory whoop as ashes rained down from above.

“Explosions! WOOOOOH!” He grinned. He glanced over to Rhys.

“That was aweso–” his words were cut short as his knees suddenly buckled. Toppling over, he hit the ground with a thud and an audible groan. Panic flooded through Rhys and he sprang forwards, kneeling at Jack’s side. He held out a hand. Jack raised his head and growled, grabbing Rhys’s flesh arm for support. Carefully, Rhys helped him slowly rise to his feet and stand upright. 

“Are you okay?”

“Urgh, my–my fucking rib,” Jack panted, clutching his side. 

“I definitely fractured it,” he hissed through his teeth in visible pain. 

“Are you sure?”

“Yes I’m bloody sure, this ain’t the first time I’ve broken one of these suckers,” he groaned, swaying on his feet. Rhys took a short glance around at their surroundings. They needed help. Was there any help? Hell no. 

They were in the middle of nowhere among the Highlands. Nothing but green and gray jagged mountains and the shrill cries of rakks wheeling in sky far far away. With Handsome Jack at his side, clinging to his shirt barely able to stand, Rhys forced himself to breath, and stay calm. They were fucked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Midterms next week so i have a short week so probably a quick chapter out in the next few days??? Maybe???


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You can tell theyre a couple of dumbass in love mlm's because they've already adopted a cat together

Jack’s breathing was growing more labored by the second. Blood bubbled at his lips.

“Hey, how about we sit down for a moment, and collect ourselves,” Rhys offered blankly. He had no idea what to do. He could barely function himself. His brain was practically short circuiting. What were they going to do? What the hell were they going to do? There was no help for miles and miles–

Rhys gingerly helped Jack to the ground, before collapsing himself into the short mountain grass. He studied his arm, pain in his eyes. It was mangled almost beyond repair. Cradling it, he strained, making an attempt to move his metal fingers. Nothing. He got nothing. 

The arm was bent at an odd, seventy degree angle at the radius. There were a couple places where the metal was torn open, and a few sparking wires poked through. Dread settled in Rhys’s chest forming a massive gaping hole. He was stranded on a bandit-infested planet in the middle of nowhere with his one best chance gone. With his arm in disrepair, he was useless. 

Jack was hunched over beside him, clutching at his side. His eyelids drooped and Rhys could barely tell whether he was conscious or not. Rhys eyed him with severe concern, but was cautious about approaching him especially when he was in a fragile wounded state. A wounded animal was a dangerous animal. Rhys watched him suck in a deep, shaking, painful breath before straightening up. He struggled for a moment, arms flailing as he tried to wiggle out of his overcoat. 

Rhys instinctively moved forwards to help. 

“Fuck off,” Jack muttered through gritted teeth, shooting Rhys a venomous glare. Rhys did no such thing and assisted him in his struggle to get his overcoat off. The jacket was much heavier than Rhys expected. Jack threw his vest down beside him, finally free and then doubled over in pain. He was only wearing a yellow Hyperion shirt underneath his coat. 

“Hypo–” Jack rasped out, through his labored breaths. Panic flooded through Rhys as he watched blood pool and spill through the lips of Jack’s mask. 

“Wh–what?”

“My coat you friggin’ deaf oaf–Third pocket on the right–Theres a fuckin’ hypo needle,” Jack managed out, drawing in a shaky breath. A cough wracked his body and he spluttered, hacking up blood from his lungs. Rhys had the horrifying suspicion his injuries were much more severe than a mere rib crack. 

He pounced on the coat, using his one good hand to find the right pocket. With success he drew the glowing red syringe and four inch needle. Jack reached out with a weak hand. 

Rhys pressed the hypo needle into Jack’s shaking palm and he grasped it, with bloody fingers. He scrabbled uselessly with his free hand at the Hyperion sweater, struggling to keep it off the left side of his ribcage. Much to his protesting, Rhys assisted in carefully lifting the shirt clear of his left ribs. He tried his best not to catch a glimpse of the aggravated area. 

Unfortunately, he accidentally caught a peak of ugly discolored purple and green skin twisting across Jack’s lower left ribcage. A grotesque lump had formed under his skin. Rhys’s worst guess was that one of Jack’s ribs had snapped off and twisted at an unfortunate angle, mangling all sorts of bodily functions. At least the skin on the surface hadn’t split. Jack’s bleeding remained wholly internal.

Jack gritted his teeth and stabbed the needle right through the middle of his whole mess. With a pained hiss, his shaking fingers pressed down on the plunger. Soon, the whole glowing red contents of the needle had been injected under his skin. The effect was almost instantaneous. Within a few dozen seconds, Jack’s strained breathing lessened and soon enough, returned to a normal rhythm. 

His energy had clearly been at least partially restored because he batted Rhys (who was hovering over him with great concern) away and grumbled about murdering him for this. Rhys ignored his threats and simply smiled with relief. Jack would be okay. Well, of course he would be. Who was Rhys kidding? He was Jack, of course he was okay. 

Jack jabbed his fist into the ground. 

“Bloody friggin’ damnit,” he growled, glaring at the exploded wreckage of the runner. 

“It’s gotta be at least five or ten miles to the nearest Catch-a-Ride,” Jack muttered. 

“We passed one on the way into the mountains,” Rhys confirmed. Jack struggled upright. He grabbed his coat and fished around in one of the pockets. 

“I’ll just call a Hyperion transport, we’ll be out of this mess in no time,” Jack muttered. He then lifted his ECHOpad from his jacket pocket and his face went rigid. Dread settled in Rhys’s chest at the sight of Jack’s device. It was nearly snapped in half. There was no way that mangled ECHOpad was functional. 

Jack frowned at the ruined piece of technology in his hand before he bashed it onto the ground in a fit.

“Fuck!”

He whirled around to Rhys, and then hissed in pain, clutching his side. Nonetheless he gazed at Rhys with wide eyes.

“You have your ECHO?”

Rhys grimaced. He’d never needed his ECHOpad anywhere because of his cybernetics.

“N–No,” he stammered meekly. 

“What about your arm–oh shit,” Jack finally noticed Rhys’s mangled limb.

“Damn, does that hurt?” He exclaimed. Rhys shook his head.

“No, it doesn’t have any pain nerves. I just can’t move it ‘cause it’s broken,” Rhys answered.

Without his arm, his ECHOeye couldn’t connect to the ECHOnet. His arm acted as the satellite for his eye and right now his satellite was in a desolate state of disrepair.

“Woooh yeah. We’re stranded all right!” Jack crooned, swaying to his unsteady feet. Slinging his vest around his shoulders, he took his jacket wrapped it around his torso. He made a tight knot before wincing in pain as he drew the fabric taught against his wounded side. That was to keep his healing rib in place. 

Rhys glanced at the alien Pandora sky. Far away, he could _ just _make out the faint silhouette of the Helios station hanging over the planet. The station was right there...so close...yet so far. 

To Rhys’s dismay, the sun was three-fourths across the sky. They were losing daylight, and fast. Stalkers would be swarming the place at night. He and Jack needed to find shelter and lay low for the night. They were vulnerable out here in the open, predators and the Raiders would be searching for them. Jack was severely wounded and although he was healing, he wouldn’t be able to hold himself very long in a fight. And for Rhys, his arm was useless and ECHOeye frazzled.

So pretty much, they were easy defenseless pickings. 

“We should find shelter, there’s probably an abandoned stalker cave somewhere, right?” Rhys propositioned. He paced back and forth across the mountain grass with a slight limp, shielding his eyes against the low sun, searching for anything, anything at all that might be habitable. Even just a shallow dip in a cliff side would be helpful. 

“With our luck, it won’t be an abandoned stalker cave and we’ll have to fight those fuckers!” Jack exclaimed, cracking his knuckles. Rhys shot him a glare. 

“Not helping!”

“Neither are you! Did you hit your head in the crash or something? There’s a cave just up there!” Jack pointed upwards behind Rhys. Rhys spun around. He was now facing one of the jagged mountains. He studied it up and down until…

There! Right in the general area Jack pointed out was a dark hole in the side of the mountain about one fourth of the way up. Rhys studied the surrounding mountainside and frowned. There was no clear path up the sheer drop of cliffs but Rhys noted a slim suitable ledge that wound across the cliff faces and spiraled all the way up to the cave. It would be a tough climb for both of them, since they’d both sustained significant injuries, but their options were mightily slim. Either get mauled by stalkers and shot by bandits or climb the mountain.

Rhys decided the latter was their best decision. He turned around to face Jack who was still weak on his feet. 

“You think you can manage getting all the way up there? Rhys asked skeptically, raising an eyebrow. A crooked, determined smile spread across Jack’s mask. 

“Oh yeah, deeeeefinitely,” he gave Rhys a charming grin. A very unconvincing grin. Sighing, Rhys ambled over to Jack’s side and offered a shoulder. Jack gave him a mildly offended look. 

“What are you doing? No–Stop you look like a deformed chicken you–” Jack dodged Rhys’s assistance attempts. 

“Just give me your arm, Jack. I will not have you falling off a cliff ledge. That’d be a stupid way to die,” Rhys grumbled, giving him a dirty look. 

“I don’t need your help!”

“I’ll be sure to write, ‘Handsome Jack. Died by his own stupidity and a cliff’ on your headstone then.”

“Agh, shut up. Fine,” Jack snapped, throwing his arm over Rhys’s shoulder for support. Rhys winced briefly at the extra weight. Jack was grumbling about how this was unnecessary and he was perfectly fine on his own. 

Rhys sighed. This was going to be a difficult trek. 

\-----------

After much stumbling, complaints and irate exchanges of words, the wounded pair somehow managed to miraculously fumble their way all the way up to the hole in the cliff they’d spotted from the ground. The ledge winding up to this place had only been about five feet wide, both Jack and Rhys had taken equal turns in almost tripping over the edge to their deaths. 

But now their harrowing ordeal was finally over. As soon as they reached the cave entrance, Rhys collapsed, legs shaking. A mixture of sweat and blood (scrapes and cuts from the earlier crash) dripped down his forehead and his chest heaved. He wiped away a trickle of sweat as he keeled over, gasping for breath. 

Jack was in no better shape, really. He had a pistol hanging loosely in his fingers as he gazed warily into the cave they’d stumbled on. The cave turned out to be fairly shallow. 

With the fading daylight behind them, Rhys could _ just _make out the back cave wall. It was riddled with cracks and off to the side was a wide gash in the rock, big enough for someone to squeeze into. Decorating their newfound cave, was a collection of...oh god...eurrghh, stalker goo. Sacs, whatever they were. Bones and various ammunition clips poked through the weird substance. The sacs hung all over the ceiling and walls. Luckily, the floor was clear. 

After collecting his breath, Rhys warily clambered to his feet, and stepped into their new shelter. As he did, a thick layer of dust flew right up his nose and he sneezed violently. Recovering, he now realized from the extensive layer of dust covering the floor that this place hadn’t been used in ages, not by stalkers or anybody else. The abandoned cave was a fortunate stroke of luck in their favor. It was perfect.

A cold breeze ruffled through Rhys’s hair. The mountains were chilly. Jack stumbled forwards into the cave right behind him.

“Nice, five star. I’m really enjoying our mission,” he remarked, voice dripping with furious sarcasm. 

A draft crawled around Rhys’s ankles and he suddenly shivered. It was cold this elevated in the mountains. They should start a fire. Rhys glanced around at the stalker pile remains. They were old...and dry...they’d probably serve well as fuel. Jack glanced over at him.

“Fire fuel?”

Rhys nodded.

The two set to work collecting a few dozen of the dusty remains and piling them in a neat stack in the center of the cave. Jack sat down right next to their pile and rubbed his hands. Rhys unsheathed his pistol. It had one bullet left.

“Light it up!” Jack encouraged, enthusiastically. Rhys aimed at the stack and squeezed the trigger. Turns out, the stalker piles made fantastic fuel. The flames roared maybe...four, five feet. 

Feeling satisfied with his accomplishment, Rhys tucked his now bullet-less pistol away and ambled over to Jack’s side of the fire. He cautiously sat beside his friend. Cradling his mangled arm in his lap he let the warmth of the fire wash over him. 

Jack put his hands up to the fire and exhaled. 

“It’s been a hell of a day,” he muttered, flickering flames reflecting off his shiny mask clasps. Rhys had nothing left to say and simply stared into their roaring campfire, watching it flicker back and forth. The sun was nearing the horizon now and judging by how slow the stalker stack fuel was being consumed, the fire would last them well through the night.

For the first time in a while, Jack was dead silent. No random strings of stories about himself, or others. He was just...quiet. To be fair it was quite strange but Rhys was fairly tired, and almost thankful for Jack’s silence. 

The two rested by the fire in quietude together, just enjoying the most they could out of this moment.

Rhys had remained still for so long, he felt glued to the floor. The sun was touching the horizon now, and he finally moved, feeling stiffness creep into his bones. He yawned but forced his eyelids to remain open. 

All of a sudden, a strange sensation of another presence entered Rhys’s peripheral thoughts. He tensed, feeling as though he were being watched. He glanced over behind Jack...nothing. He then turned his gaze over to the cave entrance and gave a start. 

At the entrance was a small creature padding forwards on its four small paws. The animal froze as it realized it had been spotted. Sitting on the cave floor the tip of the creature’s tail flicked from side to side. 

The animal was a small jet black cat with round, green and blue eyes. It’s appearance seemed almost comical, bright eyes peeking out from a sea of black fur. On top of that, it’s bi-colored eyes were funnily enough, similar to someone very familiar sitting beside Rhys at this very moment. 

The cat padded forwards, tail held high and let out a small mew. By now Jack had noticed the cat’s entrance. The cat approached and bumped its head against Rhys’s knee before rubbing itself along Rhys’s ruined arm. 

“Uh, hello,” Rhys stammered awkwardly. Jack snorted.

“Talking to cats now? You really are a loser, huh,” he poked fun. Rhys ran a hand between the cat’s ears and cast Jack a silencing glare.

“Hey I’m kidding, don’t look so offended!”

“Not funny, didn’t laugh,” Rhys muttered, turning his attention back to his new animal friend.

“Jeez, it was a joke,” Jack rolled his eyes. 

The cat moved on from Rhys and ambled over to Jack. Rhys froze for a moment, concern flooding his body. Jack tended to lean towards erratic violent behavior...would he be displeased by the cat? Would he hurt it…?

“Hey wait-“ Rhys started as the little black cat bumped its head against Jack’s knee. Shit...should Rhys do something? Jack froze, furiously glaring at the small cat’s bold attitude before he reached out a finger and let the cat have a sniff. Purring, it promptly hopped into Jack’s lap. Rhys watched in surprise as Jack gently scratched the creature behind the ears. The cat looked up at Jack and Jack looked down, giving it a once-over. 

“Woah, you have my eyes!” He remarked, delight in his tone. The cat did not respond. Instead, it lifted a small black paw and batted at his shiny metal chin clasp. Jack pushed it’s curious paw back down. 

“No, bad girl,” he frowned. Rhys had been watching this whole ordeal rather quietly. Suddenly, a low chuckle bubbled up from his chest. 

“How do you know it’s a girl?”

“She said so,” Jack said smugly, in reference to the cat. Rhys snorted. 

“You’re talking to a cat? Does this mean you’re a loser too?” He raised an eyebrow and grinned. 

“No, you’re a loser that talks to cats and I'm just a cool person that talks to cats,” Jack clarified. Rhys rolled his eyes. 

“Okay, whatever you say,” he muttered lightly. Jack gently lifted his new cat friend from under her forearms and studied her. 

“I think I’ll call you...Dick.”

“Jack we are not naming the cat Dick.”

The cat did not have an opinion in this matter, and simply meowed, hoping to be put down. Jack let her down, and she promptly settled back into his lap, tail swishing across his chin. 

“I think it’s perfectly suitable,” Jack argued. 

“No! Just call her something normal for Christ’s sake! Like...fluffy or something–I don’t know!” 

Jack let out a humph. 

“Fine. Her name will be Princess. She’s going to stay with us. She will be my other daughter,” he decided with finality. Rhys raised an eyebrow. Huh...Jack...liked cats…that was a weird revelation…although it was sort of fitting. Rhys couldn’t image Jack as a dog person, quite frankly a cat fit his personality the best. 

“What is with you and naming your daughters with weirdly elegant titles?” Rhys asked brashly, thinking of Angel. 

“They are names fit for queens, thank you very much,” Jack shot back drily. Rhys rubbed his ECHOeye port. 

“Okay then.”

In Rhys’s opinion, Princess looked a little thin, and her coat was ragged. She’d clearly been wandering the Highlands alone for a long, long time. He felt kind of bad they didn’t have any scraps on them to feed her...she’d just have to wait ‘till they got back to Helios. 

Jack (with Princess still curled in his lap) struck up a conversation and Rhys joined in. The two sat quietly chatting over the warmth of the fire, which still roared strong. Their chat continued until the sun touched the horizon casting Pandora in a hot orange glow. Soon, the breathtaking color quickly began to fade. Rhys looked out across the mountains bathed in warm sunset colors. Faint memories pulled at his mind, of past sunsets years and years ago as a child on Pandora. It was sort of melancholy to be back. 

Casting a sly glance beside him, Rhys found Jack’s features alight with the pink-orange sunset glow. He too was transfixed by its beauty.

Their golden hour moment was suddenly interrupted as Rhys picked up the unmistakable sound of voices and the dull clunk of boots on bare rock echoing up from outside the cave. He glanced towards Jack with alarm. Jack had already shot to his feet, hand on his pistol. Princess had been dislodged from his lap and was sitting next to the fire, watching the two tensed, apprehensive men with interest. 

“I’m gonna kill whoever it is,” Jack hissed, flipping another pistol into his hand. 

“No! No we have to hide, we don’t know who it is, or how many of them there are!” Rhys insisted, shooting back in a low voice. 

“We’re wounded! We don’t know who it is and they could easily overpower us!” 

Jack shot him a death glare. Rhys furiously glared back, knowing he was right. Jack growled. 

“Fine. If you’re so smart, where are we going to hide?” 

Rhys glanced around the cave. There were little to no options. They couldn’t escape the cave or else be spotted. They couldn’t put out the fire in time either. The time crawled by as the voices neared. Rhys couldn’t make out what the intruders were saying or how many there were. Yet. 

He turned in a circle, wildly searching around the abandoned cave for a suitable place. Jack just stood, hands on his hips, eyebrow cocked waiting for his answer. 

Rhys spied the large crack in the far corner that he’d seen on the way in. It seemed just barely wide enough for a man to squeeze into. Great. Perfect. He dashed over to the opening and pointed. 

“In here.”

“What? There’s no way–”

“So you’re just going to stand there and die?” Rhys spat. 

“No, I’m going to kill them!”

“Oh my god just get your stupid ass over here! Just listen to me one more time,” Rhys hissed at him exasperatedly. Jack narrowed his eyes at Rhys before he rolled his shoulders and heaved a dramatic sigh, knowing that Rhys was probably making the best decision. 

“When we get back to Helios, you and I are going to have a little _ chat _about how you’ve been addressing me lately,” Jack threatened him, making full eye contact. Rhys glared back at him, fighting off a sudden, serious flush across his face. There was just...urgh there was something different about Jack lately. 

Rhys shook his head furiously. He couldn’t focus on that right now, he had to concentrate on the situation at hand, hiding. He just barely turned sideways and managed to squeeze into the crack. It was an uncomfortably tight fit. Jack followed suit right beside him. Rhys was pushed farther into the rock and feared he may actually get stuck. 

He could just barely see past Jack’s torso into the open cave. 

“Fuck, these rocks are hurting my ass,” Rhys complained.

“You don’t have an ass it’s cardboard,” Jack was quick to snap. 

“Excuse you, I have a perfectly fine a–“

“Shut up! They’re coming!” Jack cut off Rhys’s indignant retort. Something suddenly crossed Rhys’s mind. God he was an idiot. What about the fire? And the cat? Would the cat give away their position? Rhys strained to peer past Jack’s body, blocking his view. Princess was sitting by the fire, ears pricked. She was facing away from the crack towards the cave entrance. Good kitty. 

The voices echoed up the path into the cave as the persons neared. 

“–I told you, we’re checkin’ this out cause that Raider chick said she’d give us somethin’ in return if we found Handsome Jack!”

Beside Rhys, Jack shifted.

“She? Put a bounty on..._ me?” _ He hissed incredulously.

“SHHH,” Rhys snapped. Jack angrily muttered something under his breath. The voices volumes piqued as the intruders finally stepped into view and entered the cave. Rhys strained to catch a good glimpse.

Two lanky men stepped into the firelight. Some sort of strange cross between bandits and psychos. They wore the heavy cloth and belts of a bandit, but had psycho’s masks pulled over their faces. Eyes glowing, they glanced about the cave. In their hands they each carried a drawn revolver. 

They paused near the fire, studying the scene before them.

“Som’un was just here,” the shorter of the two remarked, gesturing intelligently at the roaring fire. The taller one smacked his counterpart. 

“No shit ya stupid pig. We must have just missed em’,” the taller one decided. 

“But we didn’t see no one leave the cave on our way up–“

“I said, shut up! I say we missed ‘em, so we missed ‘em! I’m the leader,” the taller one interjected, arguably. Both men fully stepped into the cave and drew near to the fire. 

“Hey look! Kitty!” The smaller one pointed at Princess, who licked her paw in response.

“Awwww. Look at her!”

“How’d you know it were a lady?”

“Thas’ not important,” the taller of the two snapped. Both intelligent men swaggered around to the opposite side of the fire and drew uncomfortably near to the cracked opening of Rhys and Jack’s hiding place. 

Rhys’s heart thudded loudly. Would the psychos notice? Would they somehow manage to find Rhys and Jack’s semi-obvious hiding place? Considering the psycho’s intelligence, they probably wouldn’t. Rhys tried to steady his breathing and calm himself. Judging by their dialogue, they were incredibly stupid, and wouldn’t even consider searching the shadows of the cave.

Instead, the pair of psychos turned their backs to where Rhys and Jack were concealed, and faced the cave entrance. The shorter one warmed his hands over the flames while the taller one scratched an unfazed Princess behind her ears. 

Jack ever so slightly turned his head and addressed Rhys in a quiet whisper.

“Alright. Here’s the plan. We kill ‘em–“

“That’s a shit plan.”

“You’re not listening to me, cupcake!” Jack hissed loudly. Realizing his mistake, both he and Rhys froze. Luckily the two psychos made no reaction. They hadn’t heard a thing. The crackling of the fire and the psychos own conversation blocked out any of Rhys and Jack’s words.

“We’re going to sneak up behind them–there’s one for each of us–and then we’re going to snap their necks,” Jack whispered his grand plan. He sounded very pleased with himself. Rhys was not impressed. Snapping necks? That sounded sort of sick didn’t it. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying not to vividly imagine the horrible cracking noise of bones snapping. 

“Can I just shoot them?”

“I believe you’re out of bullets,” Jack observed. Rhys cursed. Jack was right. He’d used his last bullet on starting the fire. 

“Then can you just shoot them?”

“No, it’s too loud, I don’t want to,” Jack whisper-replied. Oh my god this was a fucking NIGHTMARE. Rhys sighed. He was getting nowhere. 

“You know what, fine. How do I break a neck?”

Jack beamed. 

“I knew you’d come around!” 

Rhys scowled. 

“This is a one time thing,” he hissed. Jack looked positively delighted. 

“Okay! So! You sneak up behind them, cross your wrists and wrap them across their face, then pull,” Jack explained in a low voice. Rhys frowned. 

“It may have escaped your notice, but I don’t have two arms anymore,” he raised his eyebrows at Jack. Jack gave a tiny shrug. 

“Eh, you’ll figure it out,” he brushed him off. Rhys stared at him incredulously. Was he out of his goddamn mind? Yeah. Yeah he was. Because he was Handsome FUCKING Jack and when it came down to it, he was a goddamn maniac. 

“Okay. On three we sneak up behind them. Ready? One….two…” 

Jack shifted forwards, quietly sliding out of the crack. He glanced back at Rhys. 

“Three! Come on!” He hissed. Rhys wriggled out of their hiding spot, taking in a deep breath of fresh air. He made his way across the cave floor, silent as a mouse and taking extra precaution on where his toes landed. Jack was right beside him, gunning straight for the tall psycho, who was currently kneeling with his head at reachable height. 

Rhys froze, directly behind the short psycho. The man was only a handswidth away...Rhys could reach out and touch him if he so desired. Dread settled in Rhys’s stomach. Was he really about to kill a man? Choke him to death and watch the light fade from his eyes firsthand? Would it be as poetic as storytellers described?

“SNAP CRACKLE POP BABY WOOOH!” Jack whooped, descending on his unfortunate unsuspecting target. An arguably unique warcry to be fair. A strange go-get-’em signal definitely. Rhys lunged forwards and swung his metal arm up around the shorter psycho’s shoulder under his chin. With Rhys’s flesh hand he reached around and scrambled to get a grip on the psychos face. His victim let out a strangled yell before Rhys wrenched his flesh arm backwards and a loud crack resonated from his target’s neck. 

Heavy thumps and the sound of metal clanging onto the cave floor rang out. Rhys released the psycho from his grasp who promptly fell face-first into the floor. The revolver was knocked from his grip and clattered onto the cave stones. Rhys stepped back, breathing heavily. He wiped a hand across a bleeding lip. Oh god, oh god he’d done it. He’d killed a man with his bare hands. Well...technically hand. 

He glanced over to Jack, who was standing over his now-dead target also laying face-down on the cave floor in a similar manner. Jack grinned wildly and ambled over to Rhys, standing beside him. Jack put his hands on his hips and studied Rhys’s work. 

“Hmm...not bad I–”

Rhys leapt backwards as one of the psycho’s fingers suddenly twitched. Oh fuck was he not dead? Jack heaved an exasperated sigh and without warning aimed a swift kick into the helpless psycho’s ribs. The man on the floor groaned, and rolled over. The bright blue glowing eyes of his mask cracked. He wheezed in pain. 

Jack glanced up from the man and over to Rhys with a look of utmost exasperation. 

“Seriously? I give you one simple task and you can’t even do it right! You have to yank with at least _ some _effort, dum-dum,” Jack scolded him. Rhys threw up his hands. 

“Wh–I’ve never killed a man with my hands before! How am I supposed t–”

“Yeah dude you gotta yank at an angle too,” the psycho on the ground coughed out.

“You should listen to your friend…Holy shit is tha’ Jack?” the psycho exclaimed, catching sight of Rhys’s companion. 

Rhys cast Jack a withering glare. 

Jack glowered condescendingly down at the psycho before jabbing a boot into his ribs once more for good measure. 

“That’s Handsome Jack to you,” he corrected. The psycho rolled over and wheezed, clutching his torso. Jack turned away from the pitiful sack on the ground towards Rhys. Exasperation and ire was written all over his mask. 

“I can’t believe you made me agree with a friggin’ psycho just now,” he grumbled. Rhys threw up his hands even higher. 

“WH-”

Faster than he could possibly follow, Jack moved forwards and slammed his booted foot down directly onto the psycho’s neck. A loud crack of bone echoed around the cave and Rhys visibly cringed. Jack brushed off his hands. 

“There we go! All cleaned up!” He beamed. 

“Now we can finally get some rest! Oh, but before that, will you help me throw out the bodies?”

Rhys sighed and rubbed his forehead. This trip had really taken a turn for the worst hadn’t it?

\----------

They threw the bodies out of the cave over the cliff. Rhys couldn’t bear to watch them hit the ground so he turned and headed back in the cave. Their fire was still burning strong, and Princess was sitting right beside it, paws neatly tucked under her, keeping herself warm. She didn’t seemed phased by their whole psycho ordeal. 

Jack flopped down onto the floor next to Rhys and sighed, unwrapping his coat from his waist. Out of the corner of his eye, Rhys watched him bundle up his jacket into a cubic square. Considering the fact that Jack had been severely, fatally wounded just a few hours prior, Rhys decided it would be best for Jack to get some serious rest. 

“I’ll take first watch,” Rhys offered. Jack paused.

“Are you sure? You seemed tired earlier.”

“I’m fine now. I couldn't go all night. Those psychos really gave me a fright,” Rhys gave a nervous chuckle. Jack’s gaze lingered on him for a second longer before he gruffly shrugged. 

“Alright. Fine. But wake me up at midnight or summ’. I can take the second watch,” Jack ordered. Rhys just nodded, barely paying attention. He had no intentions of waking up Jack in the middle of the night. As much as Jack refused to accept it, he needed sleep. 

Jack took his folded coat and placed it neatly on the ground near the fire. Princess padded over and sniffed it with curiosity as Jack lay back, using his jacket as a makeshift pillow. 

“Night,” Jack muttered, settling in for the night. 

“‘Night,” Rhys echoed, eyes glued to the flickering flames before him. He’d completely zoned out, unaware of his surroundings. He spied the steady rise and fall of Jack’s chest in his peripheral vision. Rhys’s eyes glazed over as he deadpanned blankly into the fire, feeling the warmth of it’s comforting flames wash over him.

He’d been sedentary on the hard cave floor for so long, his legs stiffened up. It took a great deal of effort to shift himself into a more comfortable position. Rhys glanced over at Jack’s unconscious form who had fallen fast asleep on the bare rock. Princess was curled up in a little black void beside him, purring lightly. 

The facial expression of Jack’s mask was limp, almost an expression of tranquility. Jack appeared a lot less dangerous asleep...a lot less crazy. His resting face gave the notion he was at peace asleep. As Rhys gazed at his peaceful form, Rhys couldn’t hold back the small grin from tugging at the corners of his mouth. It was a mystery as to why he was grinning so stupidly at such an insignificant action of Jack’s. It was just...it was nice seeing Jack at rest for once.

Rhys cautiously stretched out a hand as the sudden urge to give Jack’s messy hair a platonic pat surfaced. However he quickly withdrew the gesture when the reality struck him that he’d probably wake Jack from his peaceful slumber and run the risk of losing his last functional hand. 

Instead, Rhys just gazed at him from afar, watching the firelight reflect off his sharp features before turning back around to their stalker campfire and immersing his blank stare in the flickering flames once more. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry i had some unexpected events come up in my life so this chapter was out much later than intended. But in a positive note we are only a few more chapters away from real affection w thes two :-]


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I love them so fucking much and i cannot believe its going to be over 100k words before they get together i am so sorry

Wake up Handsome Jack from his deep sleep? Hell no. That was an incredibly unpredictable dangerous task. Jack would most likely wake with a pistol in his hands up and firing. Rhys also decided Jack could use a full night’s rest to fully recover from the fatal wounds he’d suffered not a day earlier.

The night passed by in almost an instant. Rhys’s eyes glazed over as he lost himself into the wildly flickering flames sitting on the cold cave floor. 

As the sun rose, the campfire was finally dwindling down to its final embers. The first rays of sunlight shot into the cave, blinding Rhys’s vision. He blinked for the first time in hours as the sun’s light shook him from his stupor. Stifling a yawn, he glanced to the left and cast a dubious look at his mangled arm beside him on the cave floor.

Sometime in the dead of the night, a burning fiery pain flared up in his right shoulder joint where his cybernetic arm connected to his flesh. First, Rhys ignored the burning sensation. He assumed it would stop at some point. But after nearly an hour, he could finally bear the pain no longer and fumbled with his latches, ripping the crumpled piece of metal off his body. Wincing, he glanced at the metal limb beside him. His arm was damaged beyond repair. 

When the sun rose, Rhys took a few minutes for himself to wake, groaning as he stiffly clambered to his feet. He winced, popping his hip. The lack of weight from his missing metal arm severely threw him off balance. He stumbled to the cave wall, stretching out a hand to the grimy wall for support. 

Moving along the wall, he paced around the cave for a few minutes, warming up his muscles and running over several possible scenarios in his head about how he’d wake Jack. This was a trivial task and Rhys had to do it right, lest he lose some sort of body part if Jack were to wake in a panic, taking wild shots with his pistol.

When the sun finally fully peaked over the horizon line, Rhys cracked the knuckles on his last remaining hand and confidently strolled over to Jack’s form sprawled across the cave floor. Both he and Princess were in the middle of a deep slumber. 

“Psst. Hey! Wake up!” Rhys tried speaking quietly. Neither Jack nor his cat stirred. Rhys frowned and tried again, gingerly nudging Jack’s side with his foot. 

“Jack! Handsome Jack! Hello? Wake up!”

Jack’s form finally stirred and he blearily opened his eyes with a grumble. 

Huh...well that had been rather anticlimactic. Although Rhys very much appreciated Jack hadn’t woken up guns blazing. 

Sitting upright, Jack rubbed his eyes. 

“‘S it my turn for watch?” He grumbled. Rhys shook his head and pointed outside the cave. 

“What? No, it’s morning. Look at the sunrise!”

Jack glanced over at the sky and blinked furiously as the light hit his sleepy eyes. He then turned back to Rhys and glowered at him. 

“I told you to wake me up for second watch!” He exclaimed incredulously, clambering to his feet and brushing himself off. He smoothed his vest and ran a hand through his disheveled hair. Princess raised her head and gave a small cat yawn at Jack’s outburst. Rhys shrugged. 

“Eh...I was fine, besides I thought you’d appreciate the extra sleep.”

Jack scowled. 

“You don’t have to do that. Next time, listen to me why dontcha?” 

Rhys stifled another yawn. 

“Yeah yeah okay.”

Princess stretched out her back, tail flicking from side to side. Jack eyed the space where Rhys’s arm had been the night before. 

“Is it just me or do you look different?” He asked Rhys pointedly. 

“Oh...yeah something happened with my arm connection, it started burning up so I took it off,” Rhys explained. Jack gathered up his coat from the dirty cave floor and shook out the dust before slinging it around his shoulders. 

“We’d better get moving. If we leave now, we could make it back to Helios at lunchtime,” Jack proclaimed, straightening out the cuffs of his jacket sleeves. Rhys nodded in agreement and pivoted on a heel, moving to pick up his vest from the ground. He’d used the night before as a cushion since he’d sat on the uncomfortable cave floor for so long. 

Apparently, Rhys whirled around too fast and forgot he no longer carried the weight of an entire left arm. 

“Fuck!” He exclaimed, crashing to the ground. Immediately, he rolled upright and bounced right back onto his feet. He wobbled for a moment, embarrassment clinging to his cheeks in a bright red flush. Jack gave a chuckle from behind him. 

“That was spectacular! You good?”

“Yes,” Rhys hissed furiously, standing at a lopsided angle. He snatched his vest off the cave floor successfully this time, and wriggled into the dusty cloth with just one hand. Spying his arm laying a few feet away, Rhys turned to Jack. 

“Do you have any rope?” He asked out of the blue. 

“Yeah, hold on I always carry twenty feet in one of my pockets...here..” Jack muttered, opening his jacket. Rhys’s eyebrows nearly disappeared into his hair. He wasn’t expecting Jack to actually have rope. Although, rope was a standard survival tool, so it shouldn’t have been surprising Jack was prepared. 

Jack stood, a coil of thick rope in both hands. 

“What do you need this for?”

“I’m going to tie my broken arm to my back. I'll get it fixed by one of the engineers back home,” Rhys explained. Jack grinned and tossed over the rope. 

“Go ahead. Actually, I can take you to a kind of...specialist for that. There are a couple secret labs on Helios that would be more than able to fix up your arm,” Jack revealed, eyeing Rhys set to work with mild interest. Rhys was busy focused on the task of tying several large knots with one hand to be paying attention to Jack. 

“Sounds good,” Rhys replied. As Jack idly waited for Rhys to finish his arm-fixation business, he wound up and kicked a pebble from the cave floor out and over the cliff. 

At long last, Rhys wiped his brow and stood. He’d successfully attached his arm to the length of rope and fastened it around his torso and waist. The extra weight on his back threw his balance off even further. When he took his first couple wobbly steps, he nearly toppled over once more. Jack squinted at him and raised an eyebrow. 

“You want some help?” He offered out an arm. Rhys shook his head. 

“No I don’t–hey...no-I––” Rhys stuttered as Jack swooped in and ducked under Rhys’s right flesh arm. He threw it across his shoulders, holding up it’s weight and balancing out the uneven weight across Rhys’s chest. 

“I mean, you unwillingly dragged me up this cliff yesterday so now I’m repaying the favor,” Jack grinned cheerfully.

Rhys sighed, wilting and accepting defeat, lopsidedly leaning on him for support. Jack patted Rhys’s hand. 

“Don’t worry, now you won’t lose your balance and fall off the cliff,” he flashed Rhys a toothy grin. Rhys rolled his eyes and looked away. 

“Alright, let’s go! The nearest Catch-a-Ride station is just a few miles away, we’ll make it in no time!” Jack piped up, brimming with genuine positivity. A rare sort of positivity to hear from him. 

Now Rhys had to begrudgingly admit, Jack’s support helped immensely with his balance. In all honesty, Rhys probably _ would _have lost his balance and toppled off the narrow cliff path if Jack hadn’t been there to balance him out. 

Indeed it was a strange sight to behold. A bedraggled CEO of Hyperion, Handsome Jack and his one-armed PA stumbling out of a stalker cave and down a cliff with a small black cat bouncing at their heels. 

––––––––––

The trio worked their way down across the Highlands. Rhys leaned on Jack for most of the way. At one point, he attempted to shoo Jack away and stand on his own but he promptly failed, nearly toppling over. He made several more of these unsuccessful attempts before he was eventually able to find his balance and walk by himself with a limping gait. Princess’s tiny, thin shape wove between his and Jack’s feet, occasionally bounding ahead before pausing and turning to make sure Rhys and Jack were still following. 

Their journey on foot took three hours maybe? The Catch-a-Ride station was closer than Rhys initially thought. The station was actually only a couple miles away, so their walk ended up being shorter than expected. Jack was the first to spot the station, sitting at the base of a mountain. Rhys glared at it suspiciously. They hadn’t had any trouble on the way down but this Catch-a-Ride station was completely out in the open, exposed. 

It would also take Rhys a few minutes longer to try and rewire it due to his missing limb. 

“Eh, don’t worry about it. If anyone bothers us I’ll just shoot them,” Jack shrugged in reply to Rhys’s concerns. That wasn’t an entirely convincing answer but the two of them didn’t really have a choice. They approached the station and Rhys wanted to get the vehicle running as quick as he could.

The pair of them hung about the back of the control panel as to not trigger Scooter up front. Rhys knelt, running his fingers over the smooth panels until he found the right groove. He frowned. Without his arm to assist him, it was probably impossible to get the panel open. Rhys glanced up at Jack. 

“I can’t get it open cause’ of my missing arm,” he explained with a frown. Jack reached into his back pocket and drew out a revolver. 

“Ok.”

For a brief flitting second, Rhys was convinced Jack might shoot him. A tiny flash of fear darted across his features. 

“Stand back,” Jack gestured at him with the gun barrel. Rhys clambered to his feet and stepped back, almost falling over Princess, who was sitting nearby with her ears pricked intently. Apparently, Jack's solution for everything was just...gun. Rhys watched, eyebrows raised as the control panel indeed came flying off after a couple of well aimed shots. 

“Huh. Thanks,” Rhys said, slightly impressed. Jack grinned. 

“You’re welcome, pumpkin.”

Rhys squatted back down next to the panel and began to work at the wires. He used the edge of his empty pistol as a way to cut through their rubbery coatings. His work wasn’t a clean job, but it was a functional one. Finishing with the wires, Rhys stood and stepped back, shaking out his hand. 

“Okay, try the screen now,” he said. Jack grunted and moved around to the front, tapping his fingers along the screen. Soon enough, another runner almost identical to their first one was brought into existence by familiar blue and white holographic lights. 

“Oh thank god that worked,” Rhys sighed in relief, ambling over to the vehicle and running his hand along it’s cool steel. They were one step closer to getting off this accursed planet.

Jack was about to climb into the driver’s seat when he paused, and turned to Rhys. 

“Hey...you do know I wouldn’t hurt you...right?”

Rhys blinked confusedly. That came out of nowhere. 

“I–uh…”

“You looked afraid when I brought out my gun,” Jack clarified, a slight change in his tone held something like...concern? However his mask was unreadable. 

“Oh...uh––well…”

“Rhys, I...eh…I like you too much. I’m not going to hurt you.”

Rhys sort of blankly stared back at him. Jack...liked him. That was good, Rhys supposed. Well...Jack had said that to him before. Rhys didn’t know why he’d felt that flash of fear, most likely those fearful thoughts were just a natural reflex to someone drawing a gun in close proximity? But Jack was worried enough about Rhys’s slight reaction to use his real name. That meant something. 

In the back of his mind, Rhys knew Jack wouldn’t hurt him. At this point, Jack didn’t strike fear in him one bit. Rhys had years and years of experience on how Helios did business. You couldn’t do something? You fucked up? Airlock. It was unnervingly easy to be airlocked. Rhys had lived his career in almost constant fear of the looming threat of being airlocked. There wasn’t much that could genuinely terrify him anymore. Not Jack, not the airlock.

Actually, working for Jack was the biggest relief Rhys ever had. No more fear or threats of the airlock because no one would dare lay hands on Handsome Jack’s personal assistant. Except for maybe Jack himself. And Jack had informed Rhys numerous times he considered them friends. Jack had also made it clear he approved and liked Rhys. Rhys had nothing to fear.

Rhys offered out his hand. Jack stared blankly at the invitation for a moment. 

“Wh-”

“I know you’re not gonna hurt me. I trust you. You’re my friend,” Rhys offered a reassuring smile. Jack still glared at Rhys’s outstretched hand. His mask remained wholly unreadable.

“Then why did you seem so afraid?”

“Eh, just the notion of a gun being drawn in such close proximity is enough to scare me,” Rhys shrugged. Jack didn’t appear convinced at Rhys’s reassurance. He was clearly concerned on Rhys’s outlook of him. 

At last Jack finally moved, squeezing Rhys’s hand. Rhys gave him a firm, assuring handshake. 

“Now we’re all good,” he confirmed. Jack grumbled. 

“I look stupid for that,” he muttered. Rhys grinned. 

“It’s just me out here and I don’t mind. Come on! We should be heading back to Helios,” he piped up, moving along. On the way past Jack, he knocked a shoulder into his. 

“Seriously, you’re cool. Don’t sulk, come on!” Rhys said, a newfound sense of enthusiasm in his voice. Jack scowled and slid into the driver’s seat.

“I don’t _ sulk, _ sulking is for weaklings,” he grunted, hands clutching the steering wheel. 

“Uh huh,” Rhys clambered in beside him. Princess took a large leap and landed on Rhys’s lap. Rhys glanced down at her. 

“You know I only have one arm, I can’t hold onto you,” Rhys was speaking to the cat again. Princess said nothing and instead curled into Rhys’s lap, hooking her claws into his pants. 

“Alright then,” Rhys muttered, grabbing the nearest pole for support and glancing at Jack.

“Let’s go.”

\----------

The returning ride in the runner was considerably less wild and painful than the first. Although that’s not to say their drive wasn’t fast as FUCK. Jack was quick to throw off any undesired hostile bandits or skags across the Dust. His morbid optimism quickly returned and he laughed jovially, running over several skags. 

Once they’d passed the original Catch-a-Ride station, they entered the range of Hyperion cannons and onto safe territory. Rhys could even spot the transport station in the distance. 

When they neared the complex surrounded by tall walls and barbed wire, Jack spun the runner to a halt and quickly slid from the seat. Princess untangled herself from Rhys’s pant leg and lightly hopped out of the vehicle. Rhys followed in suit, his gait a still a little lopsided.

They entered inside the walls surrounding the station and past the loader bots idly standing guard. The red glare of robot eyes burned into Rhys’s back as Jack lead the way into the building. 

Hopping up the steps, he, Jack and their cat made their way down a large hallway which turned into a landing dock. At the moment it stood empty. Jack craned his neck and shielded his eyes at the sky.

“Ah, looks like it’ll be here soon,” he observed, glancing over at Rhys. Princess meowed. 

Indeed Jack was correct, the odd trio only had to wait about five minutes until a large rectangular transport touched down with a whoosh out on the landing. A wind knocked through Rhys’s hair. 

“Finally! I’m sick of this planet,” Rhys grumbled glaring at their transport back to Helios.

“Aw what? You didn’t like being stranded on a shithole Pandoran wasteland with Handsome Jack?” Jack elbowed him. 

“No I very much did not,” Rhys replied. Jack laughed. The doors to the shuttle slid open with a grinding sound. The floor of the transport was a considerable step up from the landing pad. Jack leapt up the step with ease, Princess in tow. He then turned and offered Rhys a helping hand who (after much internal debate) accepted his offer of help, grabbing his hand as Jack hoisted him up into the ship.

Rhys was swift to let go and Jack was quick to move away from Rhys to the controls after the doors snapped close. 

As Rhys found a seat, he grabbed the pole in front of him and hung his head, grateful for his feet to finally be off that awful god forsaken planet. Now all he had to do was survive a quick nauseating journey back home and then all would be well. And find. And dandy. And he could forget about this whole Pandora nightmare. 

Rhys felt the shuttle give a jolt as it detached itself from the landing pad, preparing it’s high-speed journey through space.

Jack finished coordinating the holographic controls and swung into the seat beside Rhys before takeoff. He stretched out his legs as Princess jumped into his lap, settling down. Jack grinned and scratched behind her ears as she began to purr violently. 

Rhys gave a weak smile at the two, but his smile quickly faded at Jack’s conceding first question. 

“So, how do you think the Crimson Raiders knew that base was there?” Jack asked nonchalantly, studying his fingernails. 

“You didn’t...tell anyone about it...did you, sugar?”

A fresh wave of panic settled over Rhys. No...he hadn’t told anyone? Right? Er...well...he’d mentioned it briefly to Vaughn but...no...there was no way Vaughn could have told the Crimson Raiders, there was no way Vaughn could be a traitor. Besides, the information Rhys gave him was incredibly minimal and vague, there’s no way him or anyone else could have figured out that eridium core manufacturer location.

The horrible thought struck Rhys. What if he himself was a Raider spy? What if his eye was secretly programmed...or...or maybe….

_ Calm down, that’s ridiculous. No, there’s no way you nor Vaughn gave Raiders information. Be rational, dumbass. _

Jack was studying Rhys’s reaction intently. The brows of his mask were slightly down turned and knit together. He almost appeared...disappointed.

“I–I…” Rhys stuttered, mind racing. Should he reveal Vaughn?

“Tell the truth, spit it out.”

“Er...I may have mentioned I was going on a trip to Vaughn–”

“Welp looks like I gotta kill Vaughn,” Jack sighed, throwing up a hand exasperatedly as if this were a daily occurrence. 

“Hey wait! Wait–hold on no! I only told him I’d be gone for a day or two and that we were going to some old run down factory on Pandora!” Rhys exclaimed. Jack eyed him suspiciously. 

“Well then why did the Raiders show up?”

“I don’t know! There’s gotta be someone else...I just don’t know who…” Rhys trailed off one thought connecting to another. 

“Well I gotta airlock your friend ‘cause I’m not risking any security leaks–”

“No! It’s not him, he’s not the type. He has a good life on Helios, he wouldn’t want to ruin that.”

“That’s not a good enough excuse–”

“Jack! Please...just––just trust me on this–––just once...okay?” Rhys interrupted, for once in his life, pleading. Jack fell silent, simply staring at him, eyebrow cocked in a condescending gaze. He debated whether to take his PA seriously. He ground his jaw.

“Okay. Fine. Once. This is a one time thing. But you better be right about this, otherwise…” Jack’s eyes hardened to stone. Rhys took a deep breath, reading Jack’s expression. Rhys knew the stakes. If he was wrong about this…he’d completely lose Jack’s trust. And his own life.

So who else could it be? There were two choices. Simply another executive who might’ve listened in or known about the mission, or...Vaughn told someone. Rhys’s mind strayed to Yvette. Shit...she’d been out a lot recently. He vividly remembered those conversations about her negative opinions on Jack at lunch...God Rhys really didn’t want to suspect her either, she was his best friend but she’d been out “sick” so often recently and…

Rhys internally shook his head. No, as suspicious as she appeared, the traitor couldn’t be her. She was his best friend, she couldn’t betray Rhys nor the company. No. Rhys knew Yvette too well. What were her characters always aligned as in B&B? 

Lawful Evil. 

No, no, you’ve got it wrong. She’s not an evil person, she just fits that alignment best. Takes from the highest bidder. Always working to improve herself and climb the corporate ladder. As long as the pay was good and she was achieving her ambitions, she was content. As long as she always had a challenge to overcome and a pathway to step higher, she was happy. 

Hyperion was the most powerful company out there in the galaxy. She’d never betray it...no...the pay was too good and the power Hyperion held sucked her in. She’d been working up the corporate ladder of Helios for years, she was actually a top manager in the whole holographic propaganda technologies department. She wasn’t at the top top, but she was nearing there. Rhys knew her too well. She wouldn’t give up what power she’d made for herself there at Helios so easily. 

Rhys sighed and lay his head back against the headrest, closing his eyes in worried thought, a feeling of mobile nausea creeping over him. Oh man, his eyelids were rather heavy. He’d had zero sleep the night before and was utterly exhausted. He couldn’t think straight.

“We’ll figure the traitor when we get back home. You’re tired, take a nap,” Jack said from beside him. Rhys opened an eye and stared at him curiously. 

“Are you sur–”

“Yeah shut up and go to bed so I don’t have to deal with your tired cranky ass when we arrive on Helios.”

Rhys snorted. 

“Alright, G’night boss,” he muttered, closing his eyes. 

\-----------

“Rhysie! Sugar! Friggin’....ECHOeye Twink! Wake up! The shuttle’s landing!” 

Rhys was promptly jolted out of his light nap by Jack’s raucous voice. He startled a bit, realizing in his sleep his head had unknowingly fallen against Jack’s shoulder. Rhys scrambled upright, apologizing profusely. 

“You should have woken me up sooner!”

“Why? You seemed fine asleep.”

Rhys stared at Jack for a moment before he decided to drop the conversation. Jack stood, running his hands through his hair, smoothing the wild mess down to its usual gently tossed state. He turned to Rhys, who still remained in his seat on the transport, giving Princess some scratches. 

“We’re home. Come with me. You want your arm fixed, don’t you?” Jack asked, hands on his hips. 

“Yeah.”

Rhys pushed off of the bench and wobbled upright. He took a few steps before forwards almost toppling to the ground. The combined queasiness he felt from being on the shuttle and his missing limb worked hard against him. Jack caught him by the shoulders before Rhys had the chance to fall over again. Rhys shoved him off, embarrassment creeping up the back of his neck. 

Jack just laughed and jovially swung an arm across Rhys’s shoulders as the door slid open to reveal the Hyperion landing bay. They were home. 

\----------

Jack lead him out of the bay. Although the general curious stares from employees remained, nobody gave them a second glance, except for maybe at Princess, trailing behind them. Rhys followed Jack’s lead all the way to the main hub of Helios where Jack then nabbed an elevator (shooing all other occupants away to find another one) and setting course for the floor below the hub, Floor One which was the location of Research and Development. 

They stepped off into R&D, a rather darkly lit department and hung a left down the wide hallway. Jack seemed to know where they were going. He took several lefts and rights through the department. Rhys mapped out their route with his damaged ECHOeye, keeping note on where they were going and how to get back out. 

At last, Jack halted in front of an elevator and pressed the call button. Instantly, the doors slid open and Rhys followed him inside, Princess at his heels. As the doors shut behind them, Jack stepped forwards and pressed the arrow...down? Wasn’t R&D the final floor? Helios had sub-floors? Rhys turned to his companion. 

“Where are we going?”

Jack patted his shoulder.

“Helios’s secret labs!”

Rhys raised an eyebrow. He hadn’t known about any secret labs.

“We...have secret labs? I’ve never heard of them.”

“Excellent! That means they’re still a secret! Yeah, these labs are also where Angel lives. Although she lives way on the other side of where we’re going. There’s a guy down here, the name’s Nakayama. He has a team of scientists that work with secret cybernetic implant projects. The ECHOeye used to be one of them,” Jack explained. 

“A few of the workers in his team also worked with Angel and her eridium problem, you’ll be in good hands,” he added. Rhys nodded. Alright...this sounded like an alright arrangement. 

The elevator skidded to a halt with a screeching noise and Rhys ducked out of the elevator right behind Jack. The halls down here were a bright harsh white. Almost hospital-like. Down the main hall, Rhys could spy into a few of the darkened rooms, seeing colored lights through windows and unidentifiable machines. 

Jack paused at one of the first doors to the left and then pounded a fist. 

“Hey! Which ever one of you science idiots are on duty, open up!”

Almost immediately, the door swung open revealing a brightly lit room. The room loosely resembled a doctor’s room, with an almost standard looking hospital bed located in the center of the room. Except the bed had several mods on it, including holographic screens, scanners and what appeared to be some sort of robotic arm. Great. Just great. Did Rhys ever mention how much he hated doctors?

An incredibly short man had opened the door upon Jack’s request. He was balding and wore a long white lab coat. 

“Ah, Nakayama! Just the man, I need you to take a look at my assistant here,” Jack gestured to Rhys who held out his mangled arm. Nayakama observed the lumped cybernetics before studying Rhys’s form. 

“Hrm...alright…” he muttered then glanced at Jack. 

“If it's for you, I’ll do it.”

Nayakama spun around and ambled into the room, gesturing for them to follow. Rhys shot Jack a quizzical look. What had that supposed to mean? Jack gave a painful grimace. 

“Yeah...forgot to mention one tiny thing. He’s...got a weird obsession with me...Like...Y'know how everyone loves me and it’s weird if they don’t? Well...he’s a little more...obsessive...to be quite honest with you, it’s started leaning into more serial killer territory...Y'know? Like he’s got posters in his room and stuff and its–”

Rhys blanched, brought back to weeks and weeks prior to his assistant position when he himself had numerous Handsome Jack posters in his room. 

“Huh, here I thought you’d like it, like some sort of weirdo,” Rhys recovered himself, offering a light jab at Jack. Jack punched his shoulder. 

“Don’t say that!”

Rhys just grinned sheepishly. 

In the room, Nakayama ambled over to a panel of switches, flicking each one on. A dull hum filled the room as the power flickered to life. He busied himself at the far counter, hands on several holographic screens. 

“I’m assuming you’re here because you need a new cybernetic arm?” Nayakama asked. 

“Yes.”

“I’m flattered to be chosen to do this for you by Handsome Jack, but why don’t you just have an engineer do this?” Nakayama asked idly over his shoulder. 

“Uh...it has to be connected to my ECHOeye...I don’t think the engineers are qualified for neuron manipulation…” Rhys gave a chuckle. Nayakama whirled around, a new light in his eyes. 

“Did you say ECHOeye?”

“Yes…?”

“Incredible! I’ve never seen anyone survive that surgery,” Nayakama remarked, holding what appeared to be some sort of hand-held scanner in his right hand. 

“It’s always been my dream to poke around inside someone with one of those…”

Rhys cast Jack a glare. Really? This was the person who was going to be operating on him? Jack just shrugged and whispered out of Nayakama’s earshot to Rhys,

“I wouldn’t worry. He hasn’t killed anyone before in surgery...yet.”

Mouthing, ‘I cannot believe you right now’ Rhys turned back around to face Nayakama. 

“I have one of my assistants fetching an arm right now, it should be here by the time I’m finished running some tests,” the scientist proclaimed. 

“I’ll need you to remove any metal, belt buckles, weapons et cetera. Also please take off your shirt,” Nakayama ordered.

“I can take that arm, I’ll use it for measurements of the new one.”

After handing over his mangled metal, Rhys felt a little uncomfortable, unbuttoning his shirt, especially in the presence of a stranger like Nakayama. Well..it was just like any other doctor’s visit really. Always uncomfortable. Rhys hated it.

“Handsome Jack, sir, you need to leave the room for a few minutes while I’m running the tests and X-Rays. There will be a lot of radiation,” Nakayama added. Jack scowled for a moment, before glancing at Rhys who just waved at him. ‘I’m fine’ he mouthed. At Rhys’s confirmation, Jack quietly stepped out of the room, Princess bouncing at his feet. She’d followed Rhys and Jack all the way down to the labs. 

“Right, I’m going to be running about a dozen tests, so if you just take off your shoes and lay back here, we can be done soon as possible,” Nayakama said curtly, patting the hospital bed. Rhys obliged, laying back and staring into the harsh white lights. He forced himself to breath, calming his racing nerves. It was just some tests, he’d survived much worse before. 

\-------------

After about a half hour of Nakayama running different machines, having Rhys lie frozen still, wildly uncomfortable on this cot for several minutes at a time, he’d finally collected all the data needed. 

Towards the end, a tall assistant entered the room with a new arm from a different department. Nakayama placed it beside Rhys’s decimated one and began to make measurements, muttering to himself. He then handed it back off to the assistant who swept out of the room. 

“He’ll bring it down to some of the special engineers in the other room and get it prepared,” Nakayama explained. 

Suddenly, a knock sounded at the door. 

“Are you all done yet? ‘Cause I’m coming in,” Jack called from the other side of the door. 

“Yes sir!” Nakayama chirped as the handle turned. Jack strode in.

“Where’s Princess?” Rhys asked, noticing the cat not bouncing behind him. 

“I had Meg take her up to my office. So what’s happening?” Jack asked. 

Nakayama turned to face him. 

“He–” Nakayama gestured to Rhys. 

“Will need major surgery. It will be a twelve hour procedure at the least. A bunch of his faux neurons malfunctioned in his shoulder and...exploded...in a sense. It damaged a few of the ports and there are a few crucial fibers out of place. It damaged your ECHOeye neuro-fibers as well, some have even been disintegrated” Nakayama explained. Rhys just stared at him incredulously. Holy shit, he didn’t realize how badly broken his cybernetics were...damn. And twelve hours…

“Yeah...but is it safe?” Jack asked, folding his arms in front of him. Rhys blinked at him in surprise. Since when did Jack ever care about safety?

“Relatively. Sixty percent success rate.”

Oh god, a life-threatening surgery. Rhys felt himself begin to panic. For a split second, he seriously debated just getting rid of an arm altogether, he exponentially loathed the very thought of being unconscious for eleven hours while they poked and cut open his body. Especially if there was a forty percent chance he’d never wake up again. 

Deep down, he knew that was a silly thought. Of course he needed a new arm. Sixty percent was still more than fifty, the odds were on his side. Jack shifted his weight and frowned.

“Mmmaybe this isn't a good id–”

“Ok. Sounds good. When do we start?” Rhys interjected loudly. Jack scowled at him. Rhys ignored his irate gaze. He needed his arm and his ECHOeye back and functioning he’d just have to take a small risk. 

Nakayama looked between Jack and Rhys curiously. 

“You aren’t going to reprimand him for speaking over you like that, sir?” Nayakama ventured boldly, incredulousness painted over his features. In an instant Jack’s mood shifted and he gave the scientist a dark look of severe irateness cast over his mask. 

“No, it wouldn’t benefit me. However if _ you _ try anything like that, I’ll have you loaded into the moonshot and fired at the nearest rakk hive, you understand?” Jack growled, fingers flexing near a spot by his coat where Rhys knew a pistol was concealed. Nakayama raised his hands in surrender. 

“Y–Yes sir! Understood!”

“Wonderful! Now continue,” Jack’s features lifted and a cheery note hit his voice. Rhys gave an awkward cough. 

“Right...er…how long until I’ll be up and running again?” Rhys asked. Nakayama glanced at the notepad in his hand and tapped his chin. 

“Surgery is six hours, including the time it takes to knock you out. It might take a little longer since you’ve got ECHOeye metal in your head.

“Then you’ll need about three hours for everything to completely set and for the anesthetic to wear off post-surgery...then you’re going to need thirty-six hours of rest and recovery,

“If you don’t take it easy afterwards, the metal in your body might malfunction and cause paralysis in other places besides your shoulder,” Nakayama listed off, looking up from his notepad.

So… 48 hours total? Two days. Rhys glanced down at the empty socket where his arm should be located. Yeah...he needed this. He needed his eye fixed and his arm replaced. 

“Alright...er...when can we start?” Rhys questioned. Nakayama picked up his ECHOpad and swiped a few fingers across the screen. 

“Right now, I’ll just call in a couple other professionals to help, and then we’ll be able to start,” Nakayama informed him curtly. Jack crossed his arms. 

“If he dies, I’ll bash out your kneecaps and leave you helpless to the skag experiments across the hall,” Jack threatened the scientist. To Rhys it was a rather mundane threat, but Nakayama clearly got the message. 

“Yessir. I’m aware, I’ll do everything I can–”

“No no, You’ll do everything _ right, _you hear me? If not, I have a couple more creative ways of disposing you. And spoiler, most involve dismemberment,” Jack studied his fingernails and raised an eyebrow giving Nakayama a look that could cut through steel. A grin tugged at the corners of his mouth as Nakayama nodded vigorously. Jack chuckled.

“Good, now go do whatever it is you need for your doctor stuff...I’ll be sitting right here, the whole time!” Jack proclaimed, a positive chirp entered his tone. Nakayama scurried away, clutching a notepad. Once he had exited the room, the door snapping shut behind him, Jack turned grinned at Rhys. 

“Oh my god it’s friggin’ hilarious! The faces my own employees make when I tell them I’ll off them! It never gets old I swear!” Jack laughed at his little dark quip. A small smile tugged at the corners of Rhys’s mouth. He just gazed at Jack across the room, watching him laugh. It was a strangely tempered sort of beautiful. 

“Rhysie?”

Rhys snapped out of his stupor. 

“Yeah?”

Jack crossed the threshold and paused, standing over Rhys’s form sitting on the hospital bed. His clasped Rhys’s bare, flesh shoulder. The sudden realization he was still shirtless hit Rhys like a load of bricks and embarrassment prickled at the back of his neck. Jack’s eyes flickered down for a second. 

“Oh shit, nice tats,” he remarked at Rhys’s blue ink swirling across his upper arms and chest. 

“Uh...thanks…”

Jack grinned. 

“I hope you realize how big of a compliment that is coming from me,” he smirked. Rhys scowled, but a light playfully danced in his eyes. 

“Is your ego really so big you can’t just say ‘you’re welcome?’” He asked drily. Jack grinned. 

“You know it baby! I’m the best.”

Rhys snorted. 

“Right. Well...I’ll...see you in twelve hours?”

“Yeah, you’d better be seeing me in twelve hours cause if you don’t make it, I’ll kill you.”

Deciding not to remark on the fact that if Rhys was dead, Jack certainly wouldn’t be able to kill him a second time, Rhys smiled. 

“I know. I’ll be fine, stop worrying about me and worry about yourself. You should get your rib checked out,” Rhys said sincerely. Jack shook his head. 

“Nope! I’m always fine, good...happy...healthy...horny––wait hold on that last one doesn’t fit–forget I said––-whatever. Point is, you need to get better, you have no choice.”

“I'm aware. Don’t worry, I’ll be fine.”

“Good man,” Jack gave Rhys’s shoulder a pat and then stepped back. 

“For the record, I am not worried because nothing in the world could possibly worry The Handsome Jack, as you should know,” he placed his hands on his hips and grinned. 

“Good luck, sugar, I mean it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick chapter update today cuz i wrote 4K words in one day yesterday woooh


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You get 500 words of jacks perspective in this entire fic and das all

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's some fluff i drew to sustain you guys ([click here](https://soliusss.tumblr.com/post/190467409674/rhack-rights-babeyyyyyy-and-alternatively-not)) since i am mean and havent given you guys the written fluff yet EVEN AFTER 100K WORDS (ITS COMING UP REALLY SOON I PROMISE)

Oh yes, Jack was an incredibly worry-free man. After all, worrying caused wrinkles, and last time he checked, his mask was incredibly smooth (and handsome might he add). Jack had pulled up a chair, directly behind Nakayama’s team of surgeons just to amplify his large (and threatening) presence in the room. He sat there completely frozen, arms crossed and watching the events with baleful eyes. 

Did he remain seated in that goddamn bloody chair for six hours from start to finish? Perhaps. But it wasn’t like he actually gave a shit about the cybernetic man on the table...right? Jack tried to assure his questioning mind. Yeah…that was correct...Handsome Jack only cared about himself...because he was the only individual in the whole friggin’ galaxy that mattered…yeah…he was the only man in the entire universe that was remotely important because he was the most powerful (and the prettiest)...yeah...he only cared about himself...right…?

Now according to Jack, it may have been that way for many, many years but... something about that whole mindset had shifted in recent events. All because of _ that one _fucker on the operating table. 

Uh huh. Yeah, you know what? Jack did care about Rhys. But why? Why would the richest most powerful man in the universe suddenly consider some lowly expendable engineer in the picture? Well...as painful as it was for Jack to accept the truth, it was because Rhys was the only person who hadn’t left him.

(Deep down Jack knew that it was actually: Rhys was the only person Jack hadn’t managed to drive away. But Jack was not about to admit or even remotely consider the atrocious thought that this was his own fault and _ he _ was the one driving everyone away from _ himself. _Nor was he about to accept the fact that very deep down he was actually an incredibly lonely man) 

...His only friend who’d turned out to be loyal. So yeah, maybe Jack did give a flying fuck whether Rhys made it out of this surgery alive or not. After all, the two of them had gone through several misadventures together and they’d both saved each others' lives multiple times. There was no chance Jack was about to let something so small and trivial as a little surgery stand in the way of the solid relationship they had going on. 

The surgeons had already finished up their work a couple hours prior. Rhys was still caught in a deep sleep under his anesthesia. He was hooked up to several machines, each beeping steadily. Nakayama informed Jack the initial procedure had been successful and they’d had no difficulties or run into any issues. So the only thing left to do was wait for Rhys to wake the hell up. 

“Give him an hour or so...he’ll come around. I guarantee it.”

It had been three hours, thank you very much. Jack considered the delicate thought of stringing Nakayama’s intestines up on a rack due to the fact he’d “guaranteed” Rhys’s arousal in an hour and it had been _ three _bloody friggin’ hours and the fucker still wasn’t awake. Doing his best to remain calm, Jack inhaled deeply. In the back of his mind he kept general track of the minutes ticking by. His eyes burned but he absolutely refused to let them slide shut. He would not fall asleep on something as important as this. He had to wait for his friend to wake up.

Jack couldn’t do much but simply watch Rhys’s unconscious form in the hospital bed. He had a fresh red scar on the left side of his neck from where the doctors dug in to access his neural ECHOeye wiring. 

The edges of Rhys’s metal shoulder graftings were painfully sore and red but lying limply beside him was his new cybernetic arm attached firmly to his shoulder joint. Less outdated and blocky than the last one. Much more sleek and professional. The metal plating was painted the same colors however, and little blue lights blinked on the inside of Rhys’s wrist. 

The machines ringing the table showed his vital signs to be stable. There were no immediate threats or danger...the worst part about this whole thing was that Jack had to be patient. He _ had _ to wait. And wait. And wait. He did not like waiting. Patience was one of his weaker virtues. He was an _ exceptionally _ impatient man and every-goddamn-thing _ needed _ to bend to _ his _will immediately. Listen pal, if Handsome Jack decreed something be done immediately, that something was taken care of faster than yesterday. No questions asked unless you dearly wished for a bullet lodged in your forehead.

But this whole scene was different. This was something painfully knew new. Jack _ had _ to wait. He was agonizingly forced to. There were no other options, no easy way out of this. He had no choice. He had to wait, and he _ would _ wait. Occasionally muttering to himself, he waited and waited and waited at the bedside, just waiting for his companion to wake the _ hell _up. 

––––––––––

A bright white light flooded Rhys’s hooded eyes at a harsh angle. He groaned, eyelids fluttering awake. Gritting his teeth he endured the initial wake-up pain. His entire body felt like it was on fucking fire. Soreness ached through his limbs and all through his neck. His head felt swollen and heavy like a bag of bricks. 

He slowly peeled upright, sweat clinging to his body and coarse hospital sheets rough under his hands. Under his...hand...s. Plural. Holy shit! He had two hands again! The room slowly spun into focus as Rhys recognized his hazy surroundings. Helios’s labs, Nakayama's surgery room. If Rhys was still here in this room and not in heaven...that meant he’d survived the cybernetic repair surgery. Relief flooded his body. That whole dangerous ordeal was over and done with. 

Gingerly, he reached up with a flesh hand and poked the little metal circle on his forehead. It gave a painful twinge but in doing so, Rhys’s vision was outlined in a familiar electric blue square once more. 

_ WELCOME BACK RHYSW1NZ.EXE _Blinked across his sight. A thrill of happiness shot through him. His ECHOeye had returned!

Glancing down at his body, he examined his newest arm. The metal plating was painted identically to the old one in Hyperion colors...a nice reminiscent touch. Rhys’s new cybernetic arm was sleeker and less bulky than his old one. Raising his new arm up to the light, he delightfully found that it functioned silently and remained perfectly balanced. The same weight as his flesh arm.

Observing his other arm, he found several metal bracelets clamped over his skin, each one wirelessly connected to a holographic screen in order to monitor his vital signs. 

Feeling rather stiff, Rhys gingerly shifted his legs over the side of the bed and sorely placed his unsteady bare feet onto the cold tile floor. He still wore his normal work pants from pre-surgery. However he was missing a shirt due to a couple blinking devices fastened to his chest monitoring his health. 

He sucked in a great inhale and exhaled, breathing in the sterile air. Although his chest too, felt a bit stiff, he was alive. The surgery had been successful and Rhys had survived yet another harrowing ordeal. 

“Good morning, princess,” Jack chimed drily, unfolding his legs and standing up from a rolling chair across the room. Despite his nonchalant tone, Rhys could see in his eyes he was pleased to find his companion awake. 

Rhys slowly shifted off the bed, carefully swaying onto the cold soles of his feet. He was a little unsteady in an upright position and his body utterly ached but on the bright side, the new arm restored the balance across his chest. He beamed at Jack who moved forwards, emerging from the shadow he’d been under. Rhys paused for a moment, frozen still as Jack approached.

For a split second Rhys wasn’t sure what to do, or what Jack intended. Rhys took a step forwards as Jack extended his arms and pulled Rhys in for a very firm hug. 

Taken aback, Rhys tensed for a moment, Jack’s arms wrapped around his torso, hands resting on his back in a comfortable yet careful embrace. Rhys needed a minute to process Jack’s action before he relaxed in Jack’s arms and cautiously returned the gesture by wrapping his arms around under Jack’s shoulders. 

“You were in a friggin’ coma for like nine hours,” Jack muttered from Rhys’s shoulder. 

“Sounds festive,” Rhys remarked darkly, the ghost of a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. In his arms, Jack gave a slight heave, a short laugh wracking his body. Rhys snorted at his own stupid remark and buried his face in Jack’s shoulder. The fabric of his coat was smooth and warm. 

“It’s good you didn’t die. Otherwise there’d be no one brave enough to tell me I’m a handsome idiot!” Jack remarked with a grin. Rhys rolled his eyes, face still buried in the shoulder of Jack’s jacket. 

This was one of those moments Rhys would have liked to replay in a continuous loop forever and ever. This was simply just pure bliss. Everything in this moment seemed perfect. He’d survived surgery, the two of them had survived the disaster on Pandora. Everything was well now, everything was as it should be.

The door behind Rhys’s former bed creaked. Both Rhys and Jack sprung apart as Nakayama entered the room. The doctor glanced between them curiously. 

“...Er...is this a bad time…?”

“Is this a bad time, _ sir, _” Jack snappily corrected. 

“Yes. As a matter of fact it is. But it was _ so _ incredibly considerate and _ touching _ of you to ask anyways.”

Rhys glanced at Jack, whose arms were folded in front of him. He was glaring heatedly at the doctor.

“Is there anything I need to know regarding post-surgery?” Rhys interjected, breaking Jack’s silent death glare. Nakayama glanced between him and Jack, eyes settling on Rhys. He regarded the cybernetic man with a strange expression. An odd mixture of curiosity, annoyance and fear. 

“Yes,” he curtly replied.

“You’ll need thirty six hours of rest at least. You’ll also need to reset your ECHOeye but I’m assuming you already know how to do that. Your body will be fairly sore for a few days. Here–“

Nakayama stepped forwards and dropped a small vial of a couple painkillers into Rhys’s metal hand. 

“It’s morphine. Should help with the pain. Other than that, you’re good to go. Just make sure to come back if any swelling or burning starts up around your metal implants.” 

“So he’s good to go?”

“Yessir.”

“Fantastic. I’ll up your paycheck later. For now, get outta my sight,” Jack grinned threateningly, giving a cheerful wave. 

“Thank you, sir,” Nakayama bowed his head and quickly scurried out of the room. 

“Sir this, sir that. Thank you, sir. Can someone please come up with a more colorful title? Jesus,” Jack muttered, running a hand through his hair. He turned to Rhys, grinning.

“That’s why I call myself _ Handsome _Jack. Not sir Jack. Handsome isn’t boring, and I’d say it’s a perfect descriptor for this mug,” Jack rubbed his shiny chin clasp. 

Rhys pocketed the morphine vial and went to retrieve both his shirt and shoes.

“Yes Jack. It’s a very smart choice,” he droned, buttoning up his shirt. 

“Thank you! Hearing that from you is almost as motivating as hearing it from myself all the time! 

“Seriously, I’ll tell myself all the time that I am amazing, I am a genius and I am handsome. It never gets old! My voice never gets tiring I–“

“Hey.”

“What?” Jack paused mid-ramble. 

Rhys had carefully removed all the little monitors peppering his body which had linked him to the machines. He had his shirt back, as well as his belt, shield, gun and shoes. He was ready to leave this unsettling hospital-esque place.

He studied Jack’s mask for a moment. Lines that most definitely hadn’t been there previously had creased under his eyelids. He appeared utterly exhausted.

“I think I’m going back to my place now...the doc said to rest...so...er...yeah,” Rhys explained, swinging his arms. Jack shook his head.

“Nope! Not a chance. You’re staying with me, pumpkin,” he retorted. Rhys placed on his hands on his hips and frowned. 

“Yeah? And why’s that?”

“I can’t keep you from going back to work tomorrow if you’re in your own apartment,” Jack explained, gesturing with an arm, exasperated.

“Last time I told your stupid ass to stay down and rest you ignored me an went to work. Can’t have that again, so I am letting you stay in the penthouse for a couple days,” he explained, eyes narrowed at Rhys. As flattering as the offer was (staying in Handsome fucking Jack’s private fucking penthouse) Rhys had to give a hard decline. He didn’t want to invade Jack’s personal space like that but more honestly Rhys wasn’t sure he’d be able to handle living within fifty feet of Jack, not even for a couple days. 

“Okay look. What if this time I actually just stay at my apartment and don’t go to work? Look, I–”

“Nope, nada, I don’t wanna hear it! You’re coming with me, sugar. Can’t trust you to stay down and resting, and I ain’t sure if you can trust your Vaughn-friend-roomate man yet soooooo...you don’t have a choice,” Jack smile widened, eyeholes in the mask crinkling. 

Rhys’s shoulders sagged in defeat. After really mulling this over, he came to the conclusion this arrangement may not be so bad after all. Seriously, it would just be a couple of days. Then Rhys could be back and up and working again! There would be zero problems. Definitely no problems. After all, Rhys had survived Pandoran wilderness with Jack, sharing an apartment for a short period of time shouldn’t be that hard. 

“Alright, fine,” Rhys grumbled. Jack beamed. 

“I knew you’d come around! I didn’t even have to creatively threaten your life! Although now that I think about it, that probably would have deterred you further honestly but whatever.”

Jack slung an arm across Rhys’s shoulders and Rhys let out a pained yelp as sudden weight flashed across the weak flesh of his right shoulder. Jack recoiled. 

“Whoops! Forgotaboutthat!”

Rhys clutched his sensitive shoulder in pain and frowned at Jack. Jack waved both his hands. 

“Jeez don’t look at me like that, kitten! My god, it was an accident!” he scrunched his eyebrows. 

“I’m fine, don’t freak out, thanks. Now let’s get going, the smell of this place is getting to me,” Rhys brushed Jack off. Jack grinned. Rhys’s boss seemed to be in a rare elated mood.

“Princess is waiting for us up at the office, we should get moving.”

––––––––––––

Rhys’s whole body ached. His pain was a soreness that cut deep into his bones. Apparently, surgery for manipulating nerves and neuron reconstruction in his brain served as a real headache. Unsurprising, really. He followed Jack up through Helios, stumbling a few times. He still felt a little woozy from the anesthesia’s effects.

He trailed a few steps behind Jack, staying firmly in his shadow. Rhys avoided the stares of curious employees to the best of his ability. He absolutely despised appearing so weak in front of so many people.

After what felt like forever, the pair arrived on the twenty-second floor and swept through Jack's office door. Meg was present. She glanced up from her desk at their arrival. 

“Welcome back, Jack,” she greeted him. Jack grunted a response. Rhys gave her a friendly wave as he passed. Meg grinned. 

“Hey! Glad to see you survived!” 

“Thanks,” Rhys replied with a cheekish grin before hurrying to catch up with Jack, who was already in his office. 

A small black void was curled up fast asleep on top of Jack’s desk. Little cat ears pricked and bright eyes appeared as the two men approached. Princess was instantly on her feet, meowing intently at the two of them. 

“Hey! Getoffa there,” Jack jogged over to his desk and retrieved the cat. She purred at the very notion of being picked up. With a small black cat now in Jack’s hands he gave Rhys a thumbs up. Rhys almost cracked up at the sight. It was such a strange gesture to behold, especially coming from Handsome Jack.

Alas, the three of them ambled over to the elevator doors. Jack called for AGIS to let them in. The AI obliged and the red elevator doors rolled open. 

As they rode the elevator, Rhys could finally bear the pain no longer so he unscrewed the small bottle of painkiller and quickly downed a couple. Tucking it back into his pocket he sighed. There, that should help with his throbbing painful headache. Rubbing his temple, he clutched the elevator railing and glanced over at Jack. 

“Oh, hey...thanks for...sticking around at the...labs or whatever down there,” Rhys started. 

“That was very...nice of you.”

Jack rolled his eyes and gently elbowed Rhys (taking extra precaution this time as to not injure him)

“Don’t say that. It’s nothing, you got nothing to thank me for.”

“Too bad. I’m thanking you anyways. Honestly I’m just glad we survived that whole Pandora ordeal,” Rhys replied, “I was worried we’d never get out of there.”

“Yeah! Nothing like some good old life-threatening fun on a planet full of cannibals!” Jack grinned optimistically. 

“Well...we did find a nice cat,” Rhys observed, reaching over to give Princess a small head scratch. 

“True. You were all alone and scared on that cannibalistic shithole weren’t you? You needed a hero, huh,” Jack addressed the cat in his hands. The cat did not respond. 

“That’s what I thought.”

The elevator rolled to a halt and the doors slid open. Jack let Princess take a leap out of his arms and trot into the room, tail held high. She began sniffing the plants and then scampering over to the couch. Jack turned to Rhys. 

“I’ll let you stay my guest room, come with me,” he beckoned, stepping foot out of the elevator. Rhys glanced around the penthouse. Nothing had changed since the last time he’d been here. Guns still littered the coffee table, Pandora still glittered below Helios outside the window. 

Jack had disappeared down the hallway to the right. Rhys hurried after him, glancing around at these new surroundings. He hadn’t been down this hallway before, he’d only been around Jack’s living room and kitchen. The hallway was incredibly short, only three or four doors branched off of it. One of the doors had a shiny grey authorization lock. It was also emblazoned with a similar H to the one outside Jack’s office door. 

They ambled past it. Rhys almost bumped into Jack as he stopped abruptly at the next door down. This one just simply had a plain knob. 

“Here. Might be a little dusty ‘cause no one’s been here in years but you can take it. Bed should be made already,” Jack informed him. Bed. Bed sounded nice. Exhaustion weighed in Rhys’s bones and he would very much like to take a nice long nap. 

Rhys brushed past Jack and pushed open the plain wooden door. A faint light flickered on above his head. Indeed the room was dusty. The bedroom contained a bed with it’s head to the wall and an empty bookshelf. A small window sat across the room with a plain chair and desk. Outside the window, a view of Elpis could be beheld. 

Rhys turned. 

“Thanks, it’s good enough for me.”

“Great. I have some work I need to take care of and I also need to clean some of my babies–” Jack gestured to the various pistols strapped into his belt. 

“Lemme see your gun, I can get more ammo for it.”

Rhys placed his pistol into Jack’s hand. 

“Okay, great. Now you get some beauty sleep, k? I gotta go take care of Princess, just come find me if you need anything,” Jack waved with an unnerving cheerful grin and disappeared down the hallway. 

Rhys sighed and closed the door behind Jack’s exit. He turned around and glared at the bed. Oh shit...Rhys was tired as all hell. Half falling, half flopping, Rhys stumbled on the plain white bedsheets. He immediately sneezed. Jack was right. This room hadn’t been used in years. Ignoring the thin layer of dust coating the sheets, Rhys flopped backwards, his head hitting the pillow as he stared at the plain white ceiling. It was mere seconds before he slowly closed his eyes and promptly drifted off to sleep. 

\----------

Rhys had planned for this to just be a quick nap. Thirty minutes? An hour maybe? Well fuck that. He slept for a full fourteen hours. He woke the next day, quite disoriented. After figuring out where the fuck he was (Jack’s guest room), the time flickered across the corner of his ECHOeye vision. Fuckin’ 8am the next day. Rhys groaned and sat up, stretching. 

His body still faintly throbbed with an aching pain. His head spun. Rhys dug into the pocket of his pants which he hadn’t bothered to change the day before and took out his painkiller bottle. After taking a couple, he swung himself out of bed and glanced around. On the bookshelf in front of him was a yellow Hyperion sweater and a pair of sweatpants. Jack must have left the clothes there for him. 

Leaving the clothes alone on the bookshelf, Rhys hobbled stiffly down the hallway and into the main living room. He glanced around the empty penthouse. It appeared Jack had already left for work. 

Rhys felt a small presence bump into his leg and he glanced down to see Princess gazing up at him with wide luminous eyes. He squatted to the floor in order to give her a scratch on the ears. 

“Good girl.”

Sighing, Rhys straightened up, much to Princess’s protest and peered into the kitchen. Hmm...yeah Jack wouldn’t mind if Rhys made himself something to eat. 

A few minutes later Rhys had a mug of tea and a breakfast bar in hand. While Rhys sat at the table beside the window, Princess hopped up onto it’s surface and planted herself across from Rhys, tail twitching expectantly. Rhys sighed in defeat and gave her a few more scratches much to her delight. 

Finishing his breakfast, Rhys made sure to tidy everything after himself. He ambled around the apartment for a few minutes before he was able to find the bathroom. Observing his reflection in the mirror he sighed, smoothing down some of the wild strands of hair sticking up every which way. He wanted to go to work. He was useless just sitting around doing nothing, besides, he had this annoying dying need to prove to someone, anyone, that he was still functional and useful, even after surgery. 

In short, Rhys was more anxious not going to work rather than going to work injured. And although Jack would forbid him from leaving the apartment, Jack wasn’t here right now.

“AGIS?” Rhys asked. The cool disembodied voice manifested above his head. 

“Hello, Rhys.”

“Do you know where Jack is?”

“He said he was quote “Going to murder those pansies in the sniper Department Sector B” end quote.”

Rhys scratched his head quizzically. 

“Uh...right. Anyways...err...so he isn’t downstairs in the office at the moment?”

“Correct.”

“Can you let me down to the office?” Rhys inquired. 

“Certainly.”

The red elevator doors dinged open. Rhys raised an eyebrow. Well...that plan worked much better than he initially thought. Shooing Princess away from the doors, Rhys stepped into the elevator and AGIS brought him down to Jack’s office. Meg was beyond surprised to see him as he stepped through the connector doors.

“Did you come in earlier today? How did I miss you?”

“I’m uh...I’m very quiet.” 

“Fine, keep your secrets.”

\-----–––––

Rhys dropped by his own apartment to grab his ECHOpad and change into some fresh clothes. Seriously, he’d been wearing those tattered work clothes since Pandora for god’s sake. Thankfully, Vaughn was not home at the time Rhys dropped in. Rhys was going to leave a note for his roommate, but decided that might make things confusing, so he left without a word. 

\-----–––––

That day, he sorely worked in the office at his usual computer. Working was Rhys’s escape. Doing his job eased his mind away from undesirable thoughts or anxiety. It was so stupidly easy for him to just sit down, plug in and chip away at his job. He absolutely loved every second of it. Working was just his unique way of coping with life. Checking his files on his monitor, Rhys found he had a couple blueprint designs left unfinished. 

He cracked his metal fingers. Perfect. He had some adequate projects to work on today.

His coworkers were rather taken aback at his sudden reappearance. A few were brave enough to compliment the new arm. 

Skipping lunch, Rhys worked right tirelessly through a full work day right until 3 ‘o clock. Henderson had cautiously approached his desk at one point sometime in the morning.

“Rhys, you can’t just skip work whenever you feel like it. There are consequences. You can’t leave without notice and then waltz right back in here like you never left. I know you understand I have to punish you harshly for this.”

Rhys studied his new cybernetic arm with mild nonchalancy before glancing up at Henderson. Hah, Henderson couldn’t do shit to Rhys. Actually, _ no one _ could do shit, in fact. Rhys held a much higher position of power than any of his fellow workers on Helios. He was far out of their reach, spinning in the stars. Rhys knew for a solid fact Henderson couldn’t do jack fucking shit to hurt him. 

Grinning, he coolly replied,

“Might wanna ask Jack about where I’ve been. I’m not cleared to tell someone as low rank as you but if you ask him yourself, you might get lucky and he’ll tell you.”

“Rhys–”

“Ah-ah. Don’t even try the whole firing thing with me, Henderson. You can’t do shit unless you wanna be airlocked by Handsome Jack himself. You can’t touch me, you can’t do anything to me. Nothing at all,” he beamed, meeting Henderson’s eye with a cold unflinching stare. A couple of his coworkers leaned over their cubicles in mild interest at this startlingly cold exchange between Rhys and their boss. Henderson narrowed his eyes, mustache twitching irately. Rhys stared right back with a smarmingly smug grin. As much as Henderson hated to admit it, Rhys was right. 

“Why don’t you just forget about this whole thing, y’know?” Rhys offered, raising an eyebrow. Henderson glared at him a moment longer before his shoulders sagged and he waved a dismissive hand. 

“Yeah yeah, whatever. Just don’t miss work without prior notice,” he muttered, turning away. Rhys grinned. 

“Yes _ sir. _” 

\----------

Jack was angry. Not very angry, but still angry. Rhys sat on the couch, sipping a mug of hot tea while Jack paced around the apartment berating the shit out of him. 

“You! Cannot just leave whenever you feel like it! I’m still in charge of this damn place so you have to listen to me. You were supposed to stay here and rest, Rhysie! For one goddamn day!”

Rhys scrunched up his face. 

“Oh really, _ Jackie _?” he retorted. Jack whirled around.

“Are you sassing m–?”

“Yeah. Maybe I am. Look I’m sorry...Work just helps keep my mind off things, you know?” He offered sheepishly. Jack glared at him. 

“What?” Rhys retorted. He spread his yellow sleeved arms. (After the work day he’d changed into the clothes Jack left for him in the guest room)

“I’m fine! See! Look! Not damaged, I’m healing fine I just felt like working.”

Jack growled. 

“I don’t care. There are still potential spies running around. I don’t want you to accidentally leak anymore important details to anyone,” Jack said pointedly, crossing his arms. Rhys rolled his eyes and took another sip of his tea. 

“I know you’re not worried about that. You’re just worried about my health–”

“‘Course I am! That’s what good guys do! But I’m more worried you running your mouth and spilling company secrets–”

“Uh huh...yeah...that’s definitely it.”

Jack grinned. 

“Glad to see you aren’t dead yet though!”

“Thanks, I guess.”

Jack reached around to the back of his belt and spun Rhys’s pistol into his hand. 

“Catch!”

He tossed the pistol across the room. Rhys caught it was a quick reflex of his new metal hand. 

“Your arm is up and working then?”

Rhys grinned, spinning the pistol on a metal fingertip. 

“Yep,” he replied, hooking the pistol onto one of his belt loops.

“Yeah that’s good and all but Nakayama said 36 hours. It’s only been a day. You’re staying here and resting, there is absolutely no work tomorrow or I’ll kill you,” Jack threatened, pointing a finger at Rhys. Rhys scowled.

“I’m not agreeing to this–“

“C’mon, sugar. I want to hear you promise to me. Say you’ll stay home. I’ve already told AGIS not to let you down again so it’s no use struggling,” Jack put his hands on his hips, swaying to one side. Rhys glowered at him for a moment before sighing and throwing his hands up in defeat.

“Fine! I’ll take the day off tomorrow.”

Jack did not move, he simply stood there still glaring at Rhys. Rhys rolled his eyes. 

“GOD you’re dramatic. Fucking fine, I promise.”

Jack’s masked expression brightened. 

“Wow! That’s wonderful! I’m so glad decided to do this for me!” he clapped his hands giving Rhys a smug smirk. Rhys drained the last of his tea and sighed. Swinging himself off the couch, he ambled over to the kitchen sink, deposited his mug and returned to the living room. 

“I-I think I’m headed to bed,” he yawned, gently stretching out his shoulders. 

“Smart choice,” Jack muttered, swaggering over to the couch and flopping down. He bent forwards and plucked one of the guns off the coffee table. 

“I’ll be here doing some gun maintenance. Oh yeah, did you know some asshole tried to knife me today? Disappointing yes but surprising no. Hero always gets stabbed in the back, even by his own subjects,” Jack’s eyebrows furrowed. Rhys paused as Jack continued. 

“He’s dead now. I blasted off both his hands then made him kiss my sneakers in his final moments just before he bled out. Rather poetic, honestly,” Jack remarked with a cold grin. 

“Well...Sounds lovely, I’m glad you had fun today,” Rhys replied flatly. Wow...he did not need those kinds of gorey details right before bed. But it was Jack, so whatever. 

Jack pouted,

“Aw, are you mad at me now?”

“No, just tired. Goodnight,”

“‘Night, pumpkin!” Jack called cheerfully. Rhys sighed, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He turned and hobbled down the hallway back to his spare room. Princess padded after him at his heels. Rhys let her into the room before swinging the door shut. Shutting off the light, he kicked off his socks and yawned, crawling into bed. 

Princess smoothly leapt up beside him, a loud rumbling purr echoing from her chest. Rhys slipped under the covers as Princess padded around in a small circle right by his nose. She settled into a tight ball, tail tucked tightly under her. She purred violently and Rhys smiled, placing a hand on her head yet again giving her more gentle head scratches.

This continued for a considerable amount of time before Rhys quietly drifted off to sleep, cat snoring peacefully at his side.

—————

The next day, Rhys begrudgingly stayed put in the penthouse. It’s not like he could have gone anywhere anyways. Seriously, he tried. AGIS refused to let him anywhere much to his disappointment. Rhys even received a snarky message on his ECHOpad from Jack. 

_ so glad you decided to stay home today _

_ shut up _ Rhys texted back. Jack simply responded with a “ _ :] _”

Despite this being _ Handsome Jack’s _penthouse, it was surprisingly plain. There wasn’t really anything substantial to do. So throughout the day Rhys simply paced around the penthouse, glancing outside the bay window. Several times he was able to see the moonshot fire, sending down several bright slashes to Pandora’s surface. 

For the most part Rhys just lounged about. He found the tv remote and was curious to find out if anything notable had happened during his absence from Helios. Rhys was surprised to find that Jack’s tv received Pandora channels, including a bandit broadcast from Sanctuary which entailed a very attractive lady with a revealing dress and a hat. She also had a gun. “Come on down to Mad Moxxxi’s.” 

Fascinating, really.

Rhys was...fairly certain he took a nap at some point, he also made sure to feed Princess and make sure she was doing well. She followed him around everywhere, including to the kitchen where Rhys made himself lunch.

He was just putting a cup of what looked like Mac n’ Cheese in the microwave when both his ECHOpad and ECHOeye buzzed. Good. Glad to see his eye was back up and syncing to his pad. 

He’d received several new messages from both Vaughn and Yvette in their group chat. 

_ "Dude where are you? Are you okay? Your ECHOpad disappeared off the counter today, did you come by?” _

_ “Please answer.” _

_ “Are you okay?” _

_ “Hello?” _

From both Vaughn and Yvette respectively. Rhys sent a picture of his face back, just for proof he was doing alright and said,

“_Yeah, I’m fine. Sorry, after the trip I went and got a new arm lol.” _

_ “Where are you right now? I don’t recognize your surroundings.” _Yvette’s icon popped up. Rhys thought quickly. 

_ “I'm just in sum private executive lounge room, I’m taking the day off and resting.” _

_ “What room? Where? Why?” _

_ “Sorry gtg, Jack’s calling, i have work stuff to take care of,” _Rhys quickly typed, closing out of the chat room. He cursed. He hadn’t thought of a good cover story to tell Yvette and Vaughn yet. Well no matter, he’d do that later. Sighing, he turned his attention back to idly watching the tv screen. 

––––-––––-–-–

At one point in the afternoon Rhys curiously poked around the bathroom. Along with a shower, this massive fucking bathroom also included a massive fucking bathtub. Somewhere along his thinking the thought crossed his mind that, _ I was stuck on Pandora for two days, underwent surgery and I definitely am anything but clean. _

In short, fuck it. Bath time. 

Turns out as Rhys turned the water on, it...it automatically added...bubbles. Shit’s fucking crazy man. Jack was really living the life up here huh. 

Firstly, Rhys detached his cybernetic arm. When the tub was filled to a considerable amount of water and a rather tall sea of foam, he slipped into the warm water and sighed. Wow...he hadn’t had anything this nice in ages. As the warm water enveloped his body, his muscles relaxed and Rhys was suddenly keenly aware of just how tense he’d been the past few days.

Rubbing a handful of soap and water over his face Rhys sank lower into the bubbles and crossed his arms. (Well...arm. He didn’t have his other limb at the moment.) He frowned in disconcert at the sea of foam before him. The warm water was a nice gateway to relax and clear his head. To think. 

What could he possibly be thinking about? Well...yeah...obviously Jack. Mostly about Rhys’s feelings towards him...also about his questionable morals. 

Jack was...an interesting character. Crazy would be putting it lightly. Psychotic might be a more accurate term. He was a bit violent, a bit unpredictable. Morally he appeared to be a bit corrupt, although his heart was in the right place. His goal of ridding Pandora of bandits and psychos was a righteous one and he wielded the perfect mentality to carry it out. 

Yes, morally he was rather questionable. He had a rather terrifying taste for bloodshed. But he was quick in battle and a genius too. Jack also showed surprising concern toward the people he actually cared about. Like Angel...or Rhys. He’d saved Rhys multiple times and cleanly looked after him as a friend. 

Jack was always quick to snark and incredibly confident. But...he also had some flaws...like a strong sense of paranoia. At first Rhys had been blind, but now he could see through Jack’s confidence with ease and see how much of a lonesome, paranoiac man he was. However, Rhys couldn’t blame him for that. Not at all, it was actually understandable. Clawing his way to the top of Hyperion to CEO must have been a dangerous trivial task.

Jack even said it himself at one point. He’d been backstabbed many times by people he used to consider friends or people he’d trusted. Actually, it was no wonder he was extremely careful with who he decided to hang out with. 

You know, it was kind of flattering and a bit of an amazing feat Rhys was able to reach out to him, even grow to share a friendship with him. They’d been through a lot together and earning a severely paranoic man’s trust (such as Jack’s) was not a feat to be taken lightly. 

What did Rhys think of him? Well...he was cool. Really cool. Rhys always admired him from the start. But through the past months...something had changed. Rhys still held a good chunk of respect for him, especially him being Rhys’s boss and all but Rhys’s overarching view of him had changed. He now considered Jack an equal. A good friend or..partner. Jack had quite literally been Rhys’s escape from the dangers of working in Hyperion. 

The airlock had always been a threat hanging over Rhys’s head. Everyone in Hyperion’s head in fact. But since Jack pulled Rhys aside and accidentally developed a friendship, Rhys no longer had the airlock threatin the back of his mind at all hours of the day. 

In the bathtub, Rhys shifted, sitting upright and ruffling his soaking hair. He sighed, putting his head in his soaking wet hand. 

Jack was his friend. And a good one at that. Sure, he was no best friend like Yvette or Vaughn, he wasn’t one of the bros. He was a different kind of friend. A special friend. The kind that you risk your life for multiple times and yet still dance around each other with friendly banter back and forth. Drinking buddies maybe? Bloodshed shootout buddies? Dinner buddies?

Rhys felt a hot flush creep up his neck and he ducked his head under the bubbles. He liked Jack. He really liked Jack. Alot. That dumb fanboyish crush Rhys had on him since the beginning hadn’t fucking gone away. His stupid fanboy feelings had evolved into something completely different. Since becoming Jack’s friend, Rhys no longer looked up to him but rather over at him. They were equals now. 

So that silly fanboy crush? Yeah...hah...not anymore. Rhys had developed some seriously confusing feelings. At first they were platonic...but now...Rhys had arrived at the startling conclusion that he didn’t _ just _ feel platonically for Jack. God emotions were dumb. Especially ‘cause Rhys had come to the realization he’d accidentally fallen head over heels for the maniacal CEO of Hyperion. 

Rhys’s eyelids fluttered as he poured water over his face and tried to deny himself. God, even as he closed his eyes all he saw was Jack. All those secret shared glances at executive meetings. Speeding across the Dust with him at breakneck speed. Jack supporting him and helping him off the mountain. Jack laughing amidst the bloodshed and loader bots at the executive party in his strange bloodied handsome way. 

_ I’m not in love. I’m not. This is just-I-I– _

Rhys failed to come up with another explanation for all the stupid feelings in his head.

“I’m not in love with Handsome Jack,” he murmured out loud. Jerking his head up, he winced, realizing how _ wrong _ that sounded. Rhys wanted a certain someone. That someone just happened to be the most ruthless most powerful man in the galaxy. Rhys closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. As much as he hated to admit it, Jack had grown on him. Not Handsome Jack, just Jack. 

Shit. He’d fallen and he’d fallen _ hard. _ Because it was...because it was _ Jack. _ And he was friggin’ perfect in every friggin’ way, even with his unhinged morals. Fuck, this was hopeless. Rhys was hopeless. After all, the chances someone like _ Jack _ felt the same towards Rhys were slim. Too slim for his liking. Sure...Jack had flirted with him before...but that was just Jack being Jack...right? He did that with everybody, that was just his charming Handsome Jack personality...right? Yeah.

Slapping hand over his face Rhys groaned. He was hopeless. This whole situation was hopeless. Lifting the hand from over his eyes he sighed. There really wasn’t anything he could do about it though. Just go on. Keep living life. That was all he could do. Feelings were a very complicated. The friendship he shared with Jack was complicated. And there was nothing he could do about it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The final chapters (which I'm writing rn) are kinda long so the next few chapters will b out kinda slow.. sorry :[


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I like to think of this chapter as them fondly experiencing a bruh moment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It really be over 100k words huh.

Rhys was out of the bath soon after. For the remainder of his afternoon alone he spent the few hours relaxing on the couch with his soft yellow Hyperion clothes, watching tv and scrolling through his ECHOpad. He schemed up a plausible cover story to spin for Vaughn and Yvette. It went something like,

“ _ we got hit by a bandit vehicle down on Pandora an ripped my cybernetics off. Needed surgery. Just resting now. I’ll see you guys tomorrow.” _

Yeah...that seemed passable. Whether they believed Rhys’s semi-truthful tale or not, was still uncertain. 

Princess found a very warm comforting spot right on Rhys’s chest as he lay across the couch. She purred violently as he lazily scratched behind the ear. 

Rhys was still located comfortably on the couch when the elevator doors hissed open. He sat bolt upright, dislodging Princess who landed on all fours on the floor. 

“Hey!” Rhys called cheerfully as Jack stepped from the elevator and into his penthouse. He glanced over at Rhys who recoiled slightly at both Jack’s expression and appearance. He seemed rather ragged and his hair was a bit wilder than usual. A couple more creases formed around his mask’s eyeholes. One grip held a pistol and the other, his silver flask. 

“You good? “Cause I’m gonna be honest, you look like complete skagshit,” Rhys commented, raising an eyebrow while sliding off the couch onto his feet. Jack flipped him a very rude gesture with his flask hand before tossing his pistol onto the weapons pile located on the coffee table. 

“Gimme a moment, sugar,” Jack grunted, waving a hand. Rhys watched curiously as Jack spun around, facing away from Rhys. In several seconds Jack combed his fingers through his disheveled hair and to violently rubbed his eyes. The flask in his grip was quickly tucked away. 

Spinning back around, he gave a convincing grin and a thumbs up. 

“Good evening, pumpkin! How was your afternoon? Mine was fantastic. Wonderful, really. Being this charmingly handsome really does have its perks!” He said with a wide grin that did nothing to lighten his tired, deadened eyes. Rhys frowned. 

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing! Absolutely nothing!”

“Eh...Moonshot power?”

“Of course not! Well...no–but actually yes,” Jack seemed to deflate. He heaved a sigh bringing out his flask again. Taking a quick swig he wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his jacket.

“It’s been a long day, cupcake. Worrying over my superweapon and these annoying, acting all high-and-mighty executive-fucks who are always on my goddamn ass,” he grumbled, kicking out a chair at the bay window table looking over Pandora. 

“Oh boy did they have a lot of stupid questions like: ‘Where have you been?’ ‘What took the trip so long?’ And yadda-yadda. Gets real repetitive and real tiring, real friggin’ fast,” Jack vented while violently drumming his fingers on the table. 

“But no matter! You’re almost healed up, we both made it back from Pandora in one piece! Why don’t we celebrate?” Jack offered, waggling his eyebrows. A faint light seemed restored in the depths of his gaze. Rhys placed his hands on his hips, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. 

“Yeah? And how are we going to do that?”

“I'm thinkin’...food...alcohol mostly,” Jack admitted with a cheekish grin, taking another swig of his silver flask. Rhys shrugged and moved towards the kitchen. 

“Well I’m starving, so food first.”

Jack sat forwards at the table and craned his head in order to glimpse Rhys around the corner in the kitchen. 

“What are ya’ gonna make?” He asked, kicking back in his chair. Rhys struggled for a moment, reaching back into his memory. What did Jack like again? 

“Dunno’. Does ravioli sound good?” Rhys shrugged. 

“Hell yeah.”

That was a good enough confirmation for Rhys. Setting about work in the kitchen, he found this whole thing to be strangely reminiscent of the other time he’d been in Jack’s penthouse. The embarrassing one where he drunkenly complimented Jack’s eyes and then proceeded to black out. Not his most flattering moment. But before all of that alcohol shiz, Rhys seemed to recall making ravioli earlier that night as well. Wow, that’d really been a whack night hadn’t it? Now, being back in Jack’s kitchen, this whole scenario was rising back up to haunt Rhys. 

The ravioli finished cooking in a little more than ten minutes. Rhys was trying to make dinner as quickly as possible. He nearly starved to death just staring at the bubbling pot. Jack was probably starving too, but luckily he was too busy talking to Princess over at the table to bother and complain at Rhys in the kitchen. It was definitely better for Jack to stay out of Rhys’s way in the kitchen. Besides, he seemed content stroking the cat at the table. In all truthfulness, Princess was like a gift from the skies.

Shooing Princess off the table, Rhys slid into the chair across from Jack. He then pushed him a plate of the raviolis. 

“Nice. Thanks,” Jack muttered before picking up his fork and hacking mercilessly at the pasta. Although Jack had a noticeable edge to his tone this particular night, Rhys still found enjoyment in his company. Even if the talk was mostly one sided venting from Jack about stupid executives and moonshots. But then, at one point the conversation shifted. Jack leaned back in his chair and studied Rhys with a pleasant expression. 

“Do you remember the last time we did this?” He asked, tapping his chin. Rhys chuckled sheepishly. 

“Yeah...sorry if I made it weird last time...being blackout drunk and...er...giving you...uh...compliments,” Rhys muttered scratching his neck. Jack laughed. 

“Oh god no it was fine! I’m just asking if you wanted any alcohol tonight.”

For this seemingly simplistic question, Rhys had to diligently slam his two braincells together and think really, really hard.

Alright. 

What were the pros? What were the cons?

Cons: ‘Possibility of saying embarrassing things. Being a lightweight and passing out. Hangover.’

Pros: ‘Have a good ol’ fun time with his friend. Even if he had an unfortunate attraction to his friend. And that friend happened to be Handsome Jack.’

Then again, Jack had said something himself. This evening was supposed to be a good time. A small celebration of their botched victory on Pandora and Rhys’s survival of major neurological surgery. Yeah...this might not be so bad. Besides, Rhys needed to relax. He simply shrugged off the cons. Fuck it. He was going to have a nice fun night and share a couple drinks with Jack. Like honestly, seriously, what could possibly go wrong? 

Jack poured him a glass and pushed it across the table. Rhys accepted and took a long dry sip as Jack poured his own. 

Rhys wanted to be careful with how much he drank. Not so much as last time, he didn’t want blackouts and gaps in his memory but he wanted enough in order to relax.

But damn, this stuff was good. Rhys was unknowingly just finishing his first glass when Jack stood, pushing out his chair. 

“Shit,” he muttered, shaking out his head and blinking furiously, regaining balance. Rhys reached across the table for the bottle of alcohol and poured himself more. Whatever stuff this was, it was real good. 

“What are you, lightweight?” Rhys poked fun at his slightly unsteady form. 

“What are you, an asshole?” Jack fired back instantly. Rhys couldn’t hold back his laugh. 

Holding both his own glass in one hand, and the bottle in the other, Rhys carefully made his way to the couch. He brushed a couple guns aside from the coffee table order to make room for the alcohol before flopping backwards into the couch. He relaxed, feeling the dull lull of alcohol begin to wash over him. Just a few seconds later, Jack joined him on the opposite end of the same couch. 

Rhys watched in amusement as Jack violently waved around the tv remote. There seemed to be a slight connection issue. After a second or two, he had the tv up and running. Jack then heaved an extremely aggressive sigh and crossed his arms. Yet he somehow managed to control his temper and gently place the remote on the coffee table. Rhys snorted at the strangely tame sight. 

“Tv shows? Movies? There’s some sort of drama–slasher show on here that somehow actually manages to get the gut splatter right,” Jack offered blandly, sinking lower into the couch and glancing over to Rhys for input. 

“Sounds great,” Rhys gave his word, lifting his glass for another sip. Honestly, he didn’t really care what he and Jack did for entertainment. The whole mood inside the penthouse radiated rather chill, good energy. At Jack’s request, AGIS even dimmed the lights to an appropriate amount for viewing the tv. 

Time seemed to fly. Especially with Rhys’s drink. The minutes into the evening ticked by and Rhys soon found himself stupidly laughing at the dumb friggin’ show. These people died in the stupidest, funniest fuckin’ ways! Damn, Rhys was beginning to understand where Jack’s morbid sense of humor in bloodshed came from. 

Laughing alongside Rhys, was Jack, ridiculing the characters for similar reasons. Eventually, the two of them got to a point where they were both casting predictions on who was next to die or who was to end up with who. Sure, the show might have a terrible predictable plot and rather stupid antagonist, but Rhys found himself immersed. Not in the show, but rather immersed in the little moments he was sharing with Jack.

Thank god for this tv show, honestly. It spared Rhys from accidentally giving Jack weirdly flattering compliments like last time.

Hah! Now they were even. Rhys: 1. Alcohol: 1

No more embarrassing drunken comments about Jack’s (alarmingly pretty) eyes this time!

As minutes crawled, hours seemed to flit by right under Rhys’s nose. 

Jack was clutching his drink, doubled over laughing at the other end of the couch. As he straightened up for air, he glanced over at Rhys, flashing him the widest grin Rhys had ever received. A bright excited light shone from the depths of his eyes. 

“I’ve just had the most fantastic bloody idea!” He crowed, slamming down his glass on the coffee table with a loud clunk. Rhys tossed the remains of his own third drink down his throat and set his glass beside Jack’s. 

“Alright, let’s hear your fantastic idea.”

“Come dance with me, again!” Jack grinned, swinging to his feet off the couch and whirling around to face Rhys.

“I...wh–what…?”

_ Oh hell no. I’m already drunk aren’t I? I’m so drunk I’ve started auditory hallucinations! _

Rhys shook his head sadly and pinched the bridge of his nose. Urgh. How he hated being a lightweight. 

“Hey! Earth to Rhysie? Did you hear me? Hello?” Jack leaned forwards, waving a hand in front of Rhys’s nose. Rhys batted it away. 

“Wh–Yeah yeah I heard you...Sorry, what did you say?”

“Come dance with me again!” Jack grinned, shifting his weight onto one leg and placing his hands on his hips. 

“AGIS! Put on that music. You know what I’m talking about?”

“Yeah...Unfortunately.”

Rhys’s head jerked up as a catchy swing-like tune began to omit from the ceiling. The music was oddly familiar. A weird sense of deja vu settled over his mind in a cloudy haze. God he’d heard that tune before...Where….where? 

Besides this song already getting his drunken mind racing, there was another thing puzzling Rhys. Why the hell did Jack asking him to dance, sound so strange? Rhys was suddenly hit with the realization for that last question. 

“What do you mean, ‘again’? Are you drunk?’” He puzzled, scratching his head quizzically. Rubbing the back of his neck, he drunkenly squinted his eyes. 

“Hell yeah, again! Your dumbass kinda forgot the first time we danced, so I gotta remake that memory, Y'know?”

Rhys was silent for a moment, processing Jack’s words. Then he shook his head, refusing to believe a word out of Jack’s mouth. 

“Nope. You’re wrong. That never happened. I would have remembered something as flattering and terrifying as that,” Rhys pointed at him, almost accusatory. 

“That's why I’m saying we should remake it, dum-dum!” Jack let loose a raucous laugh. Seeing Rhys’s bewildered reaction he doubled over once more, roaring with laughter.

“And this is why I love ya, you’re friggin hilarious!” Jack straightened up.

“Not sure if that was a compliment or an insult but I’m taking it as a compliment,” Rhys shot back decidedly, a smaller yet equally matched grin creeping across his own face. Despite the late hour and the haze of alcohol, he felt more alive than ever. 

Jack tapped his feet slightly off beat. He beamed, thrusting an inviting hand towards Rhys. Rhys sighed, giving in.

_ _ _ Fuck it. I’m here for a good time, not a safe time.  _

_ _ He allowed Jack to drag him off the couch by the hand. Rhys swayed unsteadily to his feet in a drunken manner. 

“Good! Come on!” Jack pulled him out onto the open floor, a full view of the massive bay window beside the pair. Purplish-red light filtered through the room, glancing off the shiny clasps of Jack’s mask.

“I have no idea what I’m supposed to be doing!” Rhys confessed with a very dumbass grin. Jack grabbed his metal hand and placed it between his own neck and shoulder before swooping and grasping Rhys’s flesh hand in his own. 

“Then just let me show ya’.”

He lightly placed his remaining hand to rest just above Rhys’s hip. Rhys sucked in a breath but still managed to meet Jack’s gaze squarely. 

“Okay!” Rhys squeaked out. His voice was several octaves higher than usual. Between the music, the lighting and the feel of Jack being  _ very  _ up close and personal, deja vu was crashing over him in tidal waves. Rhys was left with the furious sensation of being able to realize this had all definitely happened before, but he was unable to recall any particular details. 

Well...it was just as Jack said. They’d just have to remake that memory...eh? 

“I’m going to trip, I’m just warning you now,” Rhys grinned drunkenly. Jack tightened his grip on Rhys’s hand. His fingers around Rhys’s waist curled. 

“Well then I’ll just have to catch you,” Jack leaned in, a smirk playing across his mask. Rhys leaned back, a furious heated blush flushing across his face. Luckily, under the lighting it was impossible to tell. 

But yo, holy shit. Jack was definitely flirting with him. Whether it was just friendly flirting or serious flirting, didn’t make a difference. Rhys thoroughly enjoyed the advances just the same. But god forbid he ever admit that to Jack. 

Following Jack’s lead with a slight drunken stumble in his footsteps, Rhys swung into the rhythm of things. The music was rather fast paced and Jack was keeping up with the beat no problem, Rhys following him with a slight delay. There was a fair amount of spinning. Rhys could barely tell what direction they faced half the time. 

“And a one two–” Jack hummed intermittently. 

Being so close to Jack made Rhys feel incredibly giddy. He felt like he’d crack open with laughter at the slightest word. It was a fickle thing...this...weird...thing the two of them had. Rhys’s heartbeat roared unconditionally in his veins. He was close enough to Jack that if he leaned forwards they’d accidentally bump foreheads. 

The dance they shared seemed close to that of an aggressive swing slash waltz…? Between the spinning...everything was sort of hard to tell. As they whirled around the room, Rhys finally cracked. A whole bought of giddiness flooded into his veins. Between his woozy sensations and alcohol riddled mind, soon enough Rhys dissolved into unbridled laughter. He wasn’t laughing at anything in particular, just this whole peculiar situation gave him an overwhelming, unexplainable rush of joy. 

Through his clouded haze, he heard Jack laughing too. At one point, Rhys leaned back into a dip and clutched Jack’s shirt sleeve as Jack whipped his partner back upright. Now if anything in this night knocked the breath out of Rhys, it was that quick action. He straightened up and stepped forwards, right into the rhythm without a second to catch his breath. Jack laughed swinging around. 

“Really feelin’ it huh?”

“Yeah! A little bit!” Rhys flashed him an unabashed grin. 

And then on into the night they went, wildly and violently spinning around the room, barely able to save their breath. If one were to peer into the apartment at the moment, they would be both afraid and curious as to why the maniacal CEO of Hyperion was so closely and violently dancing with his personal assistant. 

Rhys lost count of how many times he wobbled and nearly crashed to the floor. All he knew was too many. He was beginning to tire and his calves burned. Luckily, the next song slowed. Not too significantly, but enough to give Rhys a sense of relief. Jack slowed down the erratic foot patterns and instead re-adjusted his grip on Rhys’s hip. 

“Wanna keep going or are you too weak?” He challenged with a sly grin leaning forwards. Rhys shrugged, maintaining an expression of nonchalance despite the few small beads of sweat perspiring on his cheeks. 

“I can go as long as you like,” he returned, raising an eyebrow. The corners of his mouth tugged upwards. 

“Perfect. Let’s take it a little slower then shall we?” Jack murmured, stepping off into the new rhythm. Now the dance was a little less like a swing and leaned more into waltz territory. Stuck in this relatively fast paced yet not too wild beat, Rhys found his eyes sliding shut in bliss, simply using the sway of his heels as guidance. He followed Jack blindly for a moment before something changed. Jack’s fingers tightened around Rhys’s hand. Suddenly, Rhys’s eyes snapped open just in time for the room to spin as he stumbled backwards, shoulder blades crashing into the cold bay window. 

The collision knocked the wind from his lungs for a split moment and Rhys leaned backwards, frozen in order to catch his breath and collect his thoughts. Then he realized Jack was still holding him. Jack had Rhys’s metal hand pinned to the wall and his other latched onto Rhys’s waist, tugging him forwards at the hip so they were connected. Rhys’s chest was already heaving from their winded dance. Jack too, Rhys could practically feel the sweat rolling off him. 

And suddenly Rhys couldn’t breathe. He sucked in a small breath and felt his heart skip a beat, leaving him with an overwhelming rush of adrenaline and an empty head. His whole body was weightless. Jack regarded him with a peculiar expression. One that Rhys had never seen before, nor could he place it’s intent. Rhys was frozen still. He couldn’t utter the will to speak. All he could do was gaze into Jack’s glittering eyes. 

Everything was overwhelming. Rhys’s weightless sensation, Jack pressed against him, the fact that Jack’s face was inches from his. Heat flushed over Rhys’s cheeks and curled around the edges of his vision. The blood rushed in his ears, leaving him deaf. For once, his alcohol riddled brain did not haze him. In fact, his mind was clearer than it'd ever been. 

Now all this could change in an instant. This. This...thing he and Jack had going on. Rhys could have everything he ever wanted. Or rather, who he’d ever wanted, as long as Jack felt the same. Gazing into Jack’s eyes, Rhys found something new in their depths. A little hunger...a little...something else. And all Rhys needed to do was confess. Make a move. Jack wouldn't mind...he was the one pinning Rhys to the window after all. Jack must've wanted this too. Rhys’s gaze flicked down to the pale skin of Jack’s mask.

Leaning forwards, Rhys paused breathlessly, his eyes locking back up with Jack’s. Their faces were mere centimeters apart now. 

“I don’t think this little friendship we have is working out,” he murmured, tilting his head at a desirable angle. Rhys physically felt Jack stiffen above him. A tiny flash of disconcert flitted across his eyes before a smirk played over his expression. 

“What–is it too much for you to handle?” he challenged with a skeptical eye. Rhys gave a lopsided smile and slipped his metal hand out from under Jack's grasp against the window, resting his fingers on the collar of Jack’s shirt. 

Rhys leaned forwards into Jack’s warmth and closed the rest of the distance between them. He pressed a soft, yet firm kiss to Jack’s lips and blindly let his eyelids flutter shut leaving him in a light darkness. The faux skin of Jack’s masked lips were cool and smooth to the touch. Under his kiss, Jack was frozen still, he hadn’t moved a muscle. There was no reaction, except for a very tiny breathless ‘oh’, so faint Rhys could have easily imagined it.

Slowly opening his eyes, Rhys drew back to observe Jack’s expression, his fingers curling around the edges of his shirt collar. To Rhys’s surprise, Jack’s eyes had fluttered shut. As he felt Rhys’s warmth draw back, he blinked himself awake and gaped into the depths of Rhys’s gaze. For the first time, Jack was stunned in silence. Heavy eyelids obscured his gaze but he leaned forwards, silently asking for more. 

Trailing his cybernetic fingers upwards, Rhys gently brushed the pale cheek of his mask with a thumb. With both hands, he firmly cupped the edges of Jack’s face and tugged him in. Leaning forwards, Rhys’s eyes slid shut as he caught Jack’s lips in a second kiss, more confident, and slightly rougher than the first. This time, Rhys felt Jack move under him, his mouth slightly working back to return the gesture. 

Surprised, Rhys gently pushed him away in order to catch his breath and collect himself. His legs trembled. This almost felt like too much. 

A small grin cut across Jack’s mask and he opened his stupid mouth to say something but Rhys beat him to it. 

“I–I think I’m in love with you,” he confessed, stroking a thumb along the high-edged cheekbone of Jack’s mask. Jack leaned against him, that coy grin still plastered all over his face. 

“Me?  _ The  _ violent maniacal Handsome Jack?” 

“Mmmm...who else would I be talking about?” Rhys hummed, raising an eyebrow. Jack’s hand on Rhys’s waist loosened and traveled up the base of his neck and he seized Rhys’s face with both hands. Cocking his head to the side he roughly pulled him in crashing their lips together. He had a much more aggressive idea of passion than Rhys.

Rhys could barely match Jack as his hands furiously found Jack’s hair, turning it into a wild mess. He couldn’t get enough of this. The cool feeling of Jack’s masked lips against his, their bodies heatedly pressed together. Rhys felt Jack take control, desperately stealing his kisses and Rhys gasped, barely able to breath. 

Knees weak, Rhys thought he might collapse under the smother of Jack’s passion. But between Jack and the window, he had nothing to fear. He was going nowhere. Jack paused for a moment and Rhys seized the opportunity to press a wayward kiss to the corner of his mouth. Jack chuckled. 

“Oh...alright. So this is how it’s gonna be, huh?” He murmured in a low voice. Rhys’s smug smirk was quickly shaken from his face as Jack pressed his lips under Rhys’s jawline. Barely able to suppress an embarrassing moan, Rhys furiously bit his lip and the back of his head hit the window as Jack moved his kisses down Rhys’s neck right down to the sensitive spot just above his collarbone. 

“H–How about we take this somewhere else?” Rhys hissed through his teeth, on the verge of letting a rather humiliating noise slip. 

“Great idea, kitten,” Jack purred in Rhys’s ear before stepping back to let him up. Rhys nearly fell forwards and gripped the collar of Jack’s shirt, seizing him into another rough kiss. Jack laughed through his teeth and the two of them stumbled all the way to Jack’s bedroom. Rhys could barely register his surroundings. The world spun. A passionate heat was clouding his vision. 

At some point, Rhys fell onto the bed. Whether it was by Jack or by Rhys’s own clumsiness, it didn’t really matter. He scrambled backwards to the headboard as Jack leapt up beside him and crawled up to him, looming over him and pressing another kiss to his partner’s lips. Rhys made the motion of beginning to unbutton his shirt when Jack pressed a flat palm over his, preventing him from doing anything further. 

“No no, not now,” he murmured, rolling off Rhys and settling down beside him. Rhys turned over and chased him with a confused peck on the corner of his mouth.

“Mmm...Why not?”

“You’re still healing, remember? Also, I don’t like drunk...sex,” he muttered, giving Rhys a strange expression. Almost abashedness. 

“Y’know...it’s...just one of my...personal...rules…”

Rhys frowned, reaching out a hand and gently guiding Jack’s face back to his. He leaned over and pressed one more kiss against his mask’s cold lips. He then murmured against Jack’s mouth,

“Really? You’re gonna do all that and then just leave a man hanging?”

“Yep. That’s me, baby.”

“Asshole,” Rhys muttered a bit too affectionately, pulling away. 

“Please say you’re at least going to stay the night with me?” He raised an eyebrow. Jack glanced back over at him, a hard expression knit into his eyes.

“You really want this?”

“Sorry, was the passionate make out session two seconds ago not enough for you?”

A light smile twitched at the corners of Jack’s mask. He kicked the covers up off the bed and scooted closer to Rhys. Rhys relaxed, settling his dizzy head down on the pillow. At the moment he and Jack were face-to-face. Jack slid his legs in between Rhys’s intertwining them warmly. Rhys moved closer and pressed a slight chaste kiss to Jack’s lips. Jack hummed contentedly and flipped over onto his back. Rhys buried his face into the crook of Jack’s neck throwing his metal arm over Jack’s chest. 

Jack slid an arm under Rhys’s neck and pulled him closer. 

“Goodnight, Rhys.” 

“Night."  


Inhaling the salty sweat on the skin of his neck, Rhys closed his eyes. The alcohol made it surprisingly easy for him to drift off into sleep, listening to the rhythm of Jack’s slow breathing. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi welcome to soliusisalesbiansonsfwiswaytoouncomfyforhertowritesorry but there will be fluff and angst in this


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vaughn and Yvette probably think Rhys is sleeping with the entirety of helios at this point hes made the same excuse so often

The morning after rolled around. Rhys stirred slowly with the speed of a snail. A formerly drunken snail, to be exact. The lights in his room flooded his gaze at a strange, unfamiliar angle. Blearily rubbing his eyes with a yawn, Rhys struggled upright and lazily pushed the covers off his body. It was strange...his bed seemed oddly soft this morning. He scratched the back of his head, feeling his uncharacteristically, wildly, tangled hair. 

_ Where–...? _

For a moment, he sat blinking stupidly before realization pierced his bleary morning mind. Suddenly, his eyes were wider than moons and he bolted upright, back straight as a ruler

Shit. Fuck. Shit shit shit shit FUCK. He remained frozen still as he gawked wide-eyed at his surroundings. The horror dawned on him. He’d stayed the night, hadn’t he? In Jack’s penthouse. And most definitely not in the guest room. Oh no, he’d stayed in  _ Jack’s  _ room. In Jack’s BED. Rhys let out a pained groan, furiously massaging his forehead with several metal fingers. The memories from their little excursion the previous night came rushing back to him, crystal clear. 

Glancing around, Rhys found he was alone in the room. Upon realizing this notion, he relaxed for a moment. Turning to his right, he noticed an imprint beside him. Cautiously placing his hand on the wrinkled sheets, he found them warm. 

So...all that...stuff...hadn’t been some whackass, drunk fever dream after all? Huh. Somehow, Rhys didn’t find immediate comfort in this. He ran a hand through his frazzled hair as emotions came rushing through him. 

God, he’d confessed...then he’d kissed Jack. Kissed Handsome fucking Jack. Well, technically he’d kissed him before confessing, (details, Rhys, details) but whatever. The important facts were that Rhys really, really liked Jack. Despite his words from the previous night being a  _ drunken _ confession, it didn’t make them any less true. He was in love with Jack. That was a fact.

A warm, fuzzy feeling blossomed in his chest. Rhys shivered, feeling its gentle warmth run through his entire body, head to toe. He couldn’t stop the dumb smile from spreading across his face. The warmth was a very much welcomed, pleasant feeling. Love...affection maybe? For who? Jack. Of course Jack. 

Let's see...Rhys rifled through his drunken memory bank. He and Jack had a very passionate make out session…then they’d somehow managed to end up in the bedroom. Then, to drunken Rhys’s disappointment, Jack refused to escalate things further and instead compromised into letting Rhys cuddle him. What had Jack said? He didn’t like drunken sex. 

Honestly that had caught Rhys off guard. In all truthfulness, Jack seemed like the kind of man to just...fuck...like...whenever drunk or not. Actually, he seemed more like a drunken-sex type of guy...Well...Jack was just full of surprises...huh. 

Rhys groaned, wringing his head in his hands. Nevermind actions, what about words? He hadn’t gotten a confirmation that Jack actually returned his feelings. What if he’d just been playing along with Rhys so he wouldn’t hurt his feelings? Dread replaced the warm fuzzy sensation in Rhys’s chest. He sighed, hopelessness crashing over him. What if Jack just pitied him and nothing more? What if they’d done all that just because Jack felt bad for Rhys?

Who was Rhys even kidding? Of course Jack wouldn’t like him, Rhys was a nobody. Just some random engineer in some random department. As much as Rhys wished it were different, he unhappily understood his lowly position as a nobody in Hyperion. All that kissing and dancing last night had been pity from Jack’s end, wasn’t it? 

Rhys pinched his flesh arm, wrenching himself out of that bottomless pit of hopeless thinking. Look. If he wanted answers, he’d just have to stop being a pussy and ask Jack himself. 

Speaking of...where was Jack? He must already be up. Still wearing his yellow sweater and sweatpants from the previous night, Rhys forced himself out of bed and stood, experimentally flexing his cybernetic arm. When all was in order, he slowly moved towards the bedroom doorway, almost afraid of what he would find outside the room. Rhys hadn’t thought this through...what in hell would he even  _ say _ to Jack?

Rhys shook his head. He shouldn't overthink this. He’d just wing it. It would be natural and easy. Yeah, good plan. The living room lights were already on. Emerging from the hallway he paused in the threshold, seeing Jack’s form sitting criss-crossed facing the bay window. He was gazing out at the colorful light of Pandora and had a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. In his right hand was a tall mug of coffee. Rhys slowly approached, stepping lightly across the floor. 

“Good morning,” he ventured. Not a terrible first line but definitely not the best. Without turning around, Jack raised a hand and gestured for Rhys to sit. Taking a drag of his coffee he responded with a usual, cheery, 

“Mornin’ princess.”

Rhys gingerly lowered himself to the floor beside Jack, respectfully putting at least a foot of space or two between them. Jack turned away for a moment before spinning back around and offering Rhys a second mug of coffee. Rhys accepted his drink, holding the warm cup between his hands. He was at a loss for words and had no inkling where he should start this awkward conversation. Judging by Jack’s silence neither did he. 

If Rhys wanted answers, he’d have to do the work himself. 

“So…uh…about last night…” Rhys trailed off, clinking his metal fingers against his coffee cup, waiting for Jack to chime in. 

Jack remained wholly silent. Surprised, Rhys cautiously continued. 

“Er...um...I just wanted to ask you…especially after all...that...uh...stuff...last night...Okay so are we...are we a thing now?” 

Rhys mentally thwacked himself upright the head.  _ Fuck  _ he was bad at words. A moment of silence passed between them, as Jack made no interest in speaking. Instead he clenched his jaw, gazing far off into the distance of space. Rhys’s next words were more of an uncertain mumble.

“‘Cause like...I know we were drunk but I–”

Jack suddenly shifted from his still silence, turning his head to face Rhys. His masked expression was unreadable. The pale mask made his thoughts unfairly impossible to figure out.

“Did you really mean that last night?” He blurted out, interrupting Rhys. Rhys blinked for a moment before realizing Jack was referring to his proclamation of love. His...drunken proclamation of love, that is. Jack raised an eyebrow. 

“I’m easy to love, hard to fall for.”

His words sent Rhys into a tizzy. Rhys paused, letting what Jack had said sink in for a moment. Rhys was convinced Jack had just been pitying him last night...but...now...it turns out Jack didn’t even  _ believe _ his confession? Rhys was thrown for a loop. So...those kisses from him had an entirely different meaning. Rhys scratched his cheek with one metal finger. 

“I think there’s an old saying...drunk words are sober thoughts?” Rhys offered, a sheepish smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Jack let out a small breath that sounded suspiciously like a scoff and shook his head. 

“I just can’t figure you out,” he chuckled. 

“So why? Why are you in love with me then?”

Now was Rhys’s turn to glance away. 

“I don’t really know…” he muttered. 

“It sort of...just happened, you know? I guess when you’re around someone so much...or...you save each other’s lives...multiple times...it...kinda changes a person?” Rhys guessed, taking a sip of his coffee. 

“Surprisingly, despite being an asshole, you’re also a real nice friend, you know that?”

This time Jack snorted a real scoff.

“Right...right...” he trailed off. Rhys sighed, a sort of disappointment seeping into his bones. He glanced down into the swirling liquid of his coffee.

“Look...hey...if you didn’t like what happened last night, we can just forget about it–it’s no problem, it never happened,” Rhys spilled out hurriedly. Jack frowned. 

“Why in hell would we do that? It would ruin our new relationship, don’t you think?”

Rhys was at a loss.

“I...I don’t think I’m following…”

“You–You have this weird effect on me,” Jack started. 

“Despite being a wonderful hero, I’m a rather shit person, if you’ve noticed. Friendships and relationships don’t really come easy, y’know,” he muttered. 

“I haven’t felt what I feel for you since an old ex of mine, Nisha, five years ago,” he muttered, taking a long drag of his coffee. 

“Well, first of all, you’re not a really shit person. You’re a nice friend. You just...have some...”

Jack raised his eyebrows. 

“Finish that sentence, why don’t you, Rhysie?”

“...er...morally questionable...habits…”

Jack rolled his eyes. Rhys shrugged. 

“Well...that...sums it up. So does this mean...you...er...share the feelings...uh...I do?”

Jack rolled his eyes again. 

“You're real friggin’ shit with words, sugar,” he snorted. A small grin crept across his mask. 

“But yeah. You’re also either blind or stupid because I’ve been dropping hints everywhere, dum-dum,” Jack grinned. 

“So–”

“The list of people still alive who’ve friggin’ screamed at me before is very,  _ very  _ short. Pretty sure you’re the only name on that list actually,” Jack sighed, setting down his coffee mug. 

“You’re...you’re a special one, Rhys...You make me feel...different...so yeah...Best way to put it is that I’m in love with you too.”

Rhys was at a loss for the moment simply gazing into Jack’s eyes. Jack wore a rather smug smile and Rhys exhaled, feeling a new warmth wash over him. 

“Jack, I–”

“Just shut up and kiss me.”

“Ok.”

Rhys placed his coffee mug on the floor and leaned over, brushing his thumb along the sharp ridge of Jack’s cheekbones. Jack’s eyes fluttered shut as Rhys pressed a soft kiss against the ever-cold lips of his mask. They broke apart and Jack raised the blanket, inviting Rhys in. Feeling very warm and secure with both Jack’s arm and the blanket around him, Rhys leaned against Jack’s form, head bumping his shoulder.

He plucked his mug from the floor and took another sip with Jack pressed against him, watching the warm sunlight begin to peak over the curvature of Pandora far below them. 

\----------

They remained on the floor for so long, Rhys’s coffee grew cold. At last, Rhys untangled himself from Jack’s warm embrace and hobbled to his feet, legs incredibly stiff. He had to get ready for work. So did Jack. 

Jack wrapped the blanket around himself and collected both his and Rhys’s cups, dumping them in the kitchen. Rhys frowned, glancing down at his yellow sleepwear. 

“I’d better stop by my apartment,” he muttered. Jack glanced over at him. 

“You’re headed down to work, right?” 

“Yeah.”

“Mhmm. Okay, so what are you going to do about this little traitor situation on Helios?” Jack asked expectantly raising an eyebrow. Shit, Rhys had completely forgotten about that bombshell. He tapped his chin thoughtfully. 

“I’ll talk to my friends. But I can vouch for them, they’re innocent,” Rhys insisted.

“They’d better be. ‘Cause that airlock in my office is looking  _ real  _ inviting,” Jack snorted. Noticing Rhys’s troubled expression he waved a hand. 

“I’ll take a look at their employee profiles. Hyperion has a very detailed database for all it’s employees with all sorts of little notes and secrets. Only accessible from my computer, so it’d be impossible for anyone to get their greasy hands on ‘em,” Jack grinned. Huh, that was new information. Rhys briefly wondered what sort of Hyperion profile he himself had but decided it’d be best not knowing. 

“Alright. Sounds good. I’d better get going,” Rhys raised a hand goodbye as the elevator doors opened. 

“Have a good day, sugar!” Jack called from the other room. Rhys couldn’t stop the wide smile from spreading across his face. He had a feeling that today would be a great day. 

\----------

Somehow, Rhys missed Vaughn in their apartment. Rhys quickly gathered his clothes and tossed the yellow sweater and pants on the bed in a rumpled heap. He dressed himself in usual work clothes, white collared shirt, black vest. Then, after a copious amount of hair gel, he straightened up and beamed at the bathroom mirror. Great. Everything was great. Tossing his vest over his shoulder, he swiftly left the apartment and began his usual morning jaunt down to the department. 

During his morning in the office, he received several messages from the group chat. Both Vaughn and Yvette were repeatedly pestering him with concerned messages asking ‘where the hell he was’ and ‘why his ECHO said he was on the nonexistent floor twenty three.’ 

Oops. Rhys forgot to turn off the tracker on his ECHOpad. He did his best to rub his two braincells together and whip up a plausible response. He didn’t want them knowing about his...relationship with Jack. Not yet. Rhys had barely processed the fact he’d even kissed Jack, there was no way he’d be able to explain anything coherently to his friends. 

_ “I think my ECHOpad glitched when I rebooted my eye and got the new arm cuz Ive been in and out of the hospital for the past couple days on the fifteenth floor” _

Yeah. Looked good enough. Soon after he sent this message, Yvette asked if he’d be at lunch to which Rhys confirmed that he’d be down there at twelve, just like always. Just like always, huh?

Rhys sighed, leaning back in his chair, staring idly up at the ceiling. He hoped things would return to normal around Helios for him. Although he had the sneaking suspicion that with this new progress with Jack, everything was about to change. 

––––––––––

Spotting his friends across the cafeteria, Rhys waved. They both froze at the sight of his spindly figure, before springing up with matching excited expressions. He grinned and hurried over to the table, holding a nice refreshing cup of water. Vaughn patted Rhys’s back as he slid into the seat beside him. 

“Hey man! How are you, are you okay? How’ve you been? What’s going on?” Vaughn peered at him with concern. Rhys grinned. 

“Never been better! Check out my new arm,” he held out his sleeker cybernetic model for both of them to ogle at. Yvette whistled. 

“Damn...that must have cost a good chunk of cash. You’re not broke, right? You can still pay for lunch...right?”

Rhys beamed. 

“Yeah don’t worry. Jack paid for it, actually. Call it...compensation for what happened on Pandora.”

Both Yvette and Vaughn leaned forwards in curiosity and excitement. 

“Tell us! How was your trip? What happened?” Yvette insisted, eyes wide. 

Rhys tapped his chin with a metal finger. 

“Uh...well...it was all fine until the ride back. We basically crashed our vehicle. Then I lost my arm and we got stranded overnight in the mountains,” Rhys explained quickly, scratching the back of his neck. 

Vaughn’s eyes were full blown moons. 

“Seriously?! You were stuck on Pandora, overnight?! How did you even survive? How did you make it back–how–”

“Uh...a lot of shooting. That’s...all I can say. What happens on Pandora stays on Pandora,” Rhys sat back, resting a metal palm on the table. 

“We’re your best bros! Come on! Tell us!”

Rhys shook his head with an apologetic smile. 

“I wish I could but I’m not allowed to. General public isn’t supposed to know,” he sat forwards in a lower voice. Both Yvette and Vaughn caught his gist. 

“Ah...okay. Understandable. Although if...–What–What is that–Dude are those  _ hickeys? _ ” Vaughn suddenly veered the conversation off track and pointed vividly towards Rhys’s neck. Yvette leaned in with interest. 

“Yo, holy shit!” She exclaimed. Then her eyes narrowed and she glared at Rhys suspiciously. 

“Is this what you mean by what happens on Pandora stays on Pandora?”

“Oh my god–no! No–No! I–”

Rhys faltered, his face flushing bright red as he failed to come up with an excuse on the spot. There was no way he was going to tell them he almost fucked Handsome Jack. Nope. Nada. No chance. None. 

_ Better think of something quick then, c’mon Rhys, THINK! _

“I–I went on a date when I came back,” he blurted out. 

“With who? Handsome Jack?” Yvette joked with a burst of laughter. Vaughn snorted. Rhys gave a nervous chuckle. 

“Hah, very funny joke. I–uh–no. Coworker and I had a date already planned before the trip…so...uh...yeah...” Rhys lied quickly. Vaughn frowned. 

“You went on a date before you came to see us the moment you got back?”

Rhys deflated and hung his head. 

“Yeah...sorry...that was kind of a dick move,” he muttered. Vaughn laughed. 

“Nah man it’s fine. Hoes before bros, y’know?” 

Yvette’s hand hit the table as she doubled over, wheezing with laughter. Rhys groaned and massaged his temples, a flush creeping up his neck.

Yvette suddenly raised a hand. 

“Speaking of you being in the hospital! Remember when I said I was sick?” She asked. Rhys was more than grateful for the change of subject. Her question immediately piqued his curiosity. After all, a big reason he initially suspected her as a spy was because of her supposed ‘sick days’.

“Yeah...you were out for a while. What happened?” Rhys asked nonchalantly, raising an eyebrow. Yvette turned around and reached into her file bag, pulling out a clipboard of real solid paper. Rare to see these days with so much holographic tech going around. She slapped them on the table. 

“I thought I just had a cold but it turns out I had some sort of severe Pandoran sickness brought in by one of my coworkers who came back from a routine propaganda check-up down there,” she explained, pointing at the papers. Both Rhys and Vaughn squinted at the documents. There were several doctors signatures and data graphs. 

“Then I had to play catch-up and make up for all that work I lost,” she said, collecting the papers and shuffling them back into her bag. 

Well...that certainly cleared up some suspicions. Of course there was a possibility she was lying about her sickness...Rhys had a gut feeling she was truthful. He’d relay this information to Jack. 

Vaughn was another matter. Rhys didn’t suspect Vaughn at all. No, he was making too much money to be a traitor. Besides, he wouldn’t betray Rhys. Not in a million years. They were best bros. Rhys’s decision to leave Vaughn out of his line of suspects might have been naive but Rhys trusted him. Vaughn had no suspicious activity himself so Rhys couldn’t even begin to imagine the possibility of him turning traitor. 

“Shit, so are you better now?” Rhys asked, turning his attention back to Yvette. She nodded. 

“I’m on a special medication now, so I’m feeling better.”

Vaughn turned to Rhys. 

“Right. So there’s something you should know, it’s about our favorite man Vasquez,” he began, lowering his voice. 

“While you were out yesterday, Vasquez...er…might have…disposed of Henderson–”

“Vasquez killed Henderson?” Rhys interrupted, disbelief echoing in his voice. 

“Well–”

“–Yes and no. It’s not confirmed but most of the evidence points towards Vasquez,” Yvette chimed in over Vaughn. Rhys raised a hand and rubbed his forehead. 

“How–?”

“Airlock.”

“Jesus christ,” Rhys muttered. Henderson might have been a little bit of an ass but...he didn’t deserve the airlock. Or maybe he did. Rhys seemed to recall Jack describing him as a racist with a kitten fighting ring...maybe his death was justified.

“So...what’s up in the department now? I went in this morning and it all seemed normal, I didn’t even see Vasquez,” Rhys asked. Yvette sighed. 

“Well it turns out the fucker instituted himself as head of the department after Henderson’s death. Big ol’ hair extensions is an executive rank now, you might want to watch out,” she cautioned. Rhys shook his head and waved a casual hand. 

“Naw he can’t do shit. Worst he could do is fire me,” he brushed the possibility away. Underneath his cool demeanor he was in full panic mode. Rhys loved his job at the department. After all these years...Would he have to start getting used to new management? Would he be forced to follow Vasquez’s orders? A sickening feeling rocked his stomach as he entertained the thought. 

“He could airlock you,” Yvette chimed in helpfully. 

“Eh. Naw. He wouldn’t be able to drag me to the hatch in the first place. Also, if I got killed, Jack would get kinda mad and I think we all know what Jack is like when he’s angry,” Rhys grinned. Seeing Yvette’s and Vaughn’s confused faces he waved a hand. 

“Right right. You’ve never seen Jack angry–forget I said anything.”

“Point is, I’ll be fine, you guys don’t have to worry about me,” he reassured them, giving Vaughn a pat on the back. Vaughn didn’t seem entirely convinced. Neither did Yvette.

The digital time flashed across Rhys’s ECHOeye vision. He clambered to his feet, pushing out his chair. 

“I’ll see you guys later, I gotta get to work. Yvette, are you down for coming over for movie night tonight?”

Yvette shook her head,

“Sorry, I still have work to catch up on.”

“Bro, we can just have a guys movie night,” Vaughn suggested. Rhys was absolutely, positively beaming. 

“Sounds great! I’ll catch you later!”

Rhys waved goodbye to his friends and exited the cafeteria. 

\-----------

Deciding to check up on his designs in the department one more time, Rhys made a quick stop before heading back up to Jack’s office. 

Oh what perfect, glorious timing. Vasquez happened to bump into Rhys on his way into the department. 

“Ah! Rhys! Just the man I want to see!” He smiled pleasantly. The two men stood, just outside the department door. 

Yeah, remember what Rhys was thinking at lunch not half an hour prior? “ _ Naw, worst he could do is fire me _ ”? In a plain manner of speaking, let’s just say Vasquez handed Rhys a verbal pink slip. But in a  _ really  _ dickish manner. The two of them had an incredibly passive aggressive, pleasant conversation afterwards. 

Basically Vasquez ordered Rhys to get out of the office and never come back. 

Sure, Rhys was angry. He glared furiously at Vasquez’s smug smirk. His fingers curled, and his arm twitched. Most of Rhys’s willpower was wasted on holding back from sinking his sharp metal fist into that punchable face Vasquez’s. 

But all the while...Rhys didn’t find himself flying into a furious storm. He should probably have been raging right now. Vasquez just fired him out of a well-paying job he’d had for  _ years.  _ Years!

To his utter surprise, below the surface anger towards Vasquez Rhys felt ...nothing. At that moment, he came to the realization that none of this mattered at all. Vasquez’s grand boot didn’t affect Rhys in the slightest. Why? Jack.

Being in love with the CEO of the entire friggan’ company had its payoffs didn’t it? Who the fuck cared about Vasquez’s department? Rhys could just take his work up to Jack’s office and work from there! This was all fine. Actually, the whole situation was mighty laughable. Vasquez seemed genuinely excited when he terminated Rhys. 

Deciding not to squash what little happiness Vasquez derived from firing him, Rhys sighed and hung his head, struggling to keep a straight face. 

“Well...goodbye...sir,” he proclaimed quietly, a bit too dramatically. Vasquez beamed. 

“Y’know, I’m very incredibly sorry to let you go. But all this could have been avoided if you just showed me a bit of respect from the beginning,” Vasquez shook his head disappointedly, before giving Rhys a firm smack on the back. 

“Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll find another position somewhere. I know the janitorial team is always hiring, it’s got good pay, too,” he laughed heartily at his own shit joke. 

“Look sir, I’m very incredibly sorry–”

“Nah, to be honest no one cares how sorry you are. And I definitely don’t. Get outta my sight and don’t come back,” Vasquez interjected, straighting up and haughtily glaring at Rhys with a condescending eye. Rhys broke the furious stare and spun his heel. 

“Goodbye!” Vasquez called cheerfully at his retreating back. With level strides, Rhys kept his gaze straight ahead and didn’t cast a backward glance until he rounded a corner. Peering over, he saw Vasquez was no longer in the threshold. 

Rhys jogged back over, warily glancing around before he ducked into the department. He discreetly shuffled over to his (now old) desk and fired up the computer. Then he proceeded to wipe it clean. He erased every single blueprint file in the memory bank, past, present and current works in progress. The only thing Rhys cared about was the blueprints. So long as Vasquez couldn’t get his hands on them, Rhys was happy.

Of course, all those blueprints weren’t gone forever, just erased from the database. Rhys kept backups stored in his ECHOeye. Feeling satisfied, he smirked and quickly swept from the department, hurrying up to Jack’s office for the afternoon.

\--–––--–

“You are not going to believe the day I had,” Rhys announced, storming into Jack’s office. Jack looked up at Rhys’s entrance and raised an eyebrow. 

“That’s my line. What could possibly be going wrong for you?”

Rhys sighed flopping down in his rolly chair at his desk. 

“Vasquez.”

Jack raised the pitch of his voice with a touch of mockery. 

“Wallethead? Aww...is he bullying dear Rhysie again or something? Can you not stick up for yourself? Do you need big strong Handsome Jack to come protect y–”

“Agh. Shut up. No I’m fine,” Rhys snorted. Jack leaned back in his chair and grinned. 

“You want me to shoot him?”

“You don’t even know what he’s done!”

“Then tell me.”

“That bastard fired me,” Rhys revealed. Jack gave a whistle. 

“Damn, I never took him for the brave type. Well? Did you put him back in his place?” Jack questioned expectantly. 

“No.” 

Jack sighed and gestured with a hand. 

“This is your problem. You’re not  _ aggressive  _ enough.”

“The asshole business personality doesn’t always help me out–”

“Are you telling me you’re only an asshole with me?”

“You know what? Yeah. Maybe I am,” Rhys glared at Jack who smugly peered at him from over the desk. 

“Now I’m offended. Now you  _ have  _ to come up here and make me feel better,” Jack grinned. Rhys rolled his eyes. 

“No seriously, come here, I’ve missed your scowly face.”

Rhys sighed and pushed out his chair.

“It’s only been like eight hours,” he reasoned, yet still appearing at Jack’s side up on the slightly raised platform of Jack’s desk. 

“I don’t care. Come here, dum-dum,” Jack insisted rising to his feat and opening his arms. Admitting defeat, Rhys looped his arms around Jack’s torso as Jack basically gathered him in his arms. 

“Ok–ok too tight–” Rhys wheezed, being smothered by Jack’s affectionate embrace. The grip immediately lessened. 

“Well, now I know I can suffocate someone to death this way,” Jack remarked cheerfully at this opportune moment. Rhys snorted and pressed a kiss to his cheek. Jack stiffened for a moment in surprise before leaning away.

“Eurgh. Gross.”

Rhys grinned. Jack dragged him over to the chair with his arms still around the smaller man. Somehow, they both managed to fit on Jack’s yellow chair. Rhys bumped his head against Jack shoulder.

“I talked to my friends today. I don’t think they’re guilty. Although...I’m wondering about something. Did you look at Yvette’s profile in the database?”

“Mmm...yeah.”

“She showed me some medical documents today from the hospital. That’s recorded on her profile, right?”

This was all Rhys needed to confirm Yvette’s innocence or not. Just this one tiny detail. Jack squinted his eyes. 

“Yeah...she’s got a recent record of being violently ill in the hospital. She’s squeaky clean. Actually both of them are. Her and...Vohn–”

“Vaughn.”

“–Whatever you say–Both of them look fine. I don’t care about them. No suspicious activity. So then my genius moved onto the next obvious suspects. Executives. A fair few knew where I was going when we left...and ugh–” Jack broke off shaking his head. 

“It gives me a damn headache to even think I’ve got moles in the executives–” he growled. 

“Don’t you dare take this the wrong way because I, Handsome Jack am a goddamn genius! I know everything that goes on in this space station. After all, it’s  _ my  _ space station.  _ But... _ Yeah...Imma be honest, I have no idea who the hell’s spilling secrets. Not even all these old ass executives seem suspicious. Even the ones with a grossly dirty record,” Jack gave a frustrated huff and glumly placed his head on his hand. Rhys patted his cheek comfortingly. He then suddenly sat bolt upright with excitement. 

“Ahah! Got it! I’ll set a trap!”

“Er...what kind of trap?”

“I don’t know! Maybe I’ll just call every employee into a personal interview and then shoot them if they act suspicious.”

“That is a terrible plan.”

“No it’s an  _ effective  _ plan. But it would take too long. You know what? I’ll figure this out myself,” Jack decided. 

“I know which executives have knew I was going to Pandora, so I’ll just narrow the pool down from there,” he proclaimed. 

“You need any help with that?”

“Nope! I don’t want you running around concerning yourself in dangerous spy business.”

“Dangerous spy business, huh? Uh huh. Who saved  _ your _ ass the first trip to Pandora? Me. I’d be fine,” Rhys argued. 

“Nope. Still no. I already said. Super dangerous spies. Besides, I’m a friggin’ hero, I can handle a stupid traitor,” Jack insisted. ‘Course Rhys was aware Jack would be perfectly fine handling this business on his own. But still, Rhys worried. 

“All right...whatever you say,” he gave up, throwing a hand in the air. Jack glanced at him.

“You said Wallethead fired you? I looked at his profile today in the executive list. Sneaky little shit airlocked Henderson Handsome Jack-style yesterday. Can’t blame him though, Henderson was getting old and soft. Anyways, your pal Vasquez goes down to Pandora a couple times a month. It would be a little suspicious if almost half the other executives and a quarter of Helios employees didn’t also visit Pandora periodically. Well with Wallethead all his data says is for family. Usually a person’s profile will detail which family members and be more specific (so I know which family member to threaten) but not with him,” Jack observed. 

“Huh, that’s kinda weird.”

“Yeah, but not enough information to really base an accusation off of. But this is also  _ me _ doing the accusing and whatever I say is law so…” Jack pondered this for a moment. 

“I could just kill ‘em anyways, who cares. I’m kinda itching to airlock the guy for firing you,” Jack admitted, letting out a low chuckle. 

Hell no. Jack had offered Vasquez’s death before and Rhys denied. And he’d deny it again. Rhys didn’t want this death on his hands. It didn't matter if the death wasn’t physically  _ his  _ own hands, he’d still feel crushing guilt about causing the death of a fellow worker. Having Vasquez assassinated wasn’t moralistic. 

Vasquez might have been a huge  _ dick _ but he was a whole person. Living and breathing. Hell, the man even had a family on Pandora. Rhys would not be the one to steal that away.

“No! No, please do NOT kill him. It’s fine, it's fine. I'm not even that mad about it. I can just work on my blueprints here and I’ll have more time to work on PA stuff for you,” Rhys blurted out quickly.

Jack considered this for a moment. 

“Yeah, you’re right. Now you can be my full time PA. Actually! I have an even cooler idea!” 

Jack slid off the chair leaving Rhys behind and turned around to face his partner.

“You’re still gonna be my PA but you’re also not,” Jack proclaimed. Rhys frowned in confusion, leaning back in the chair. Seeing Rhys’s bewilderment, Jack snapped his fingers.

“I’m making you my personal adviser instead of assistant,” he clarified. Rhys blinked in surprise. Personal adviser? Was that even a real position? He’d never heard of a personal adviser before. Sure, Rhys made a hell of a personal assistant but a personal adviser? Rhys was not prepared to become an  _ adviser _ . However, since he had a peculiar relationship with Handsome Jack, adviser would work out fine.

What would he even do as an adviser? Advise? Advise Jack??? Oh god, that would be an incredibly difficult position, wouldn't it? Advising Handsome Jack. Incredible.

Well, life’s crazy, ya know? Can’t get any worse. Besides, adviser would be a higher position than an assistant. 

“Thanks. Now what do I do as an adviser exactly?” Rhys asked. 

“Same thing as an assistant. Except you come with me everywhere, even all the strategy meetings...vault openings…” Jack gestured off into the distance. So this meant more time with Jack? All right. Rhys was sold. 

“And do I get to order...I mean... _ advise _ you around?” Rhys grinned. Jack snorted. 

“Not a chance. But there’s a chance I might seriously take your opinions into consideration now!”

“What’s that supposed to mean? You’ve always done that.”

“Have I really? Huh, weird. I must really like you or something,” Jack stared at Rhys pointedly. Rhys laughed and slid off the chair onto his feet.

“All right. Well, I’d better get going home, I need to rest up if I’m going to start being your personal adviser tomorrow,” he said, the ghost of a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. Damn, just saying his new title out loud felt weird. Different. Higher. More…(for lack of a better word)...powerful. He felt this new step was him traveling another foot closer to being Jack’s corporate equal. 

Ah, forget about all that corporate ranking stuff. In personal eyes, he and Jack were already equal. Companions, partners...whatever you call it. A team. A well oiled team in fact. They’d survived a lot together. 

Jack leaned against his desk, crossing his legs with a charming grin.

“Bye cupcake! Have a good n–oomph–” 

Rhys cut him off by giving him a very fleeting kiss on the cheek. 

“Good night…” he smiled softly. Jack was very still. Rhys had the sneaking suspicion he may have short circuited him. As Rhys pivoted and began heading for the exit Jack called out. 

“Hey, wait! Get back here, you!”

Rhys turned just as Jack seized the sides of his face and pulled him in for a full kiss. Breaking apart, Rhys found himself quite flustered, his face turning bright red. 

“A–All right. I think that’s all,” his voice cracked. Jack grinned, swiping a thumb across his bottom lip. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow, bright an early, right?”

“Yep, I’ll be going now. I–I–uh–you–see you tomorrow,” Rhys squeaked, turning around one final time and nearly smacking into the doorframe on his haste exit. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Handsome Jack is (and i cannot stress this enough) clingy


	28. Chapter 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> pre-compensation fluff for what im boutta do

Personal adviser. Rhys’s new title bounced around his head as he adjusted his tie in the mirror. While Vaughn was cooking breakfast in the kitchen, Rhys was in the bathroom furiously gelling his hair and echoing to himself,

“Personal adviser. Personal advisor. Its fine, you’ll do great.”

While Rhys sat in the kitchen anxiously drumming his fingers on the counter in a fast rhythm, Vaughn noticed his agitated behavior, pointing it out. 

“Dude are you okay? You’re like...vibrating right now.”

“I’m fine. Great, actually. I got a promotion yesterday from Jack. Just kinda nervous...also excited,” Rhys spilled out. Vaughn raised an eyebrow. 

“What could possibly be a promotion from Handsome Jack’s PA?”

“Personal adviser.”

“Oh.”

Vaughn was silent for a few moments before the realization really struck him. 

“OH! Adviser?? Ad–Has there ever been a personal adviser before? Dude, what do you even do?”

Rhys shrugged. 

“Honestly, I’m not sure yet, I’ll find out today. Jack said I just followed him everywhere, like to secret meetings and vaults,” Rhys clarified, stabbing at his eggs. Vaughn nodded. 

“Right, right. Just–Please promise me one thing. Don’t fucking die?” Vaughn stated this as a clear pleading question. Rhys grinned. 

“Don’t worry about me bro, I can take care of myself.”

“You better,” Vaughn muttered. 

“Well...I might fucking die if I’m late the first day on the job,” Rhys remarked, wolfing down his eggs. He pushed out his chair and stood. 

“I’d better get going. I'll see you later, bro.”

“See ya! Adviser,” Vaughn replied, grinning. With that, Rhys swept out the door and hurried to the office to begin his new job. 

\-----------

Rhys adapted well to his newfound situation. He basically worked in Jack’s office full time ‘round. He set up blueprints on his computer desk and Jack assigned him several new prototype tasks. Secret ones of course, that only Rhys knew about. Like moonshot modifier concepts or full detailed pistol blueprints. 

On top of his hard work designing weapons, Rhys followed Jack around Helios pretty much everywhere. Every single meeting (unless Jack deemed it unimportant, then he’d just send Rhys in his place) and down to a couple departments for routine check-ups. Jack asked for Rhys’s opinions on blueprints employees occasionally brought up. Rhys was also tasked with sending statistic reports or other files across Helios or down to Opportunity and Pandora. 

The new aspects of Rhys’s work sounded rather tiring but he found his job to be very fulfilling. Rhys didn’t work every hour of the day, he still had lunch breaks to go visit Yvette and Vaughn and rest for an hour. Then he’d hurry back to the office and continue working until about four o’clock when he went home for dinner. Then returned for his final two hours in Jack’s office. 

Okay...okay maybe it _ was _ a lot of work...but Rhys wasn’t complaining. He loved it. 

Jack gave Rhys a day off every week incase he needed rest due to the large quantity of work now resting on his shoulders. 

The job also paid very handsomely (hah) but Rhys wasn’t in this for the money. In the past he’d have his eye on nothing but the cash but times had changed. Right now he was in this for...well...Jack. They were partners. They made an exceptionally great team. Hey, Rhys even had to help Jack dodge an assassination attempt at one point during some day of the week. 

Now that they were in a relationship, Rhys desired more than ever to be at Jack’s side. Underneath the man’s snarky demeanor, Jack was clearly very pleased to have Rhys beside him. There was a great deal of flirty arm brushes during meetings that lingered just a little too long. Jack slinging his arm around Rhys’s shoulders when they strolled through Helios….and secret kisses when no one was watching.

Rhys was in heaven. Everyday near Jack he felt a little warmer and his heart beat a little faster. Rhys had everything he wanted. More, actually. He hadn’t realized the full extent of just how hard he’d fallen for Jack until about a week of being together. Rhys’s whole mood was generally a bit brighter. He had more energy. His mind was crystal clear and he gained the ability to work with incredible performance. 

On the flip side, more often than not Rhys found himself missing Jack when he wasn’t around. Without Jack, the office lacked a considerable presence. Rhys was thrown off by the lack of Jack in the office. It felt almost wrong to be seated in the office...alone for portions of the day. Since Rhys was beside Jack constantly, he’d undergone a newfound sense of security and an overwhelming feeling of constant affection.

He was confident in his relationship and he could tell Jack was clearly quite pleased about their relationship as well. Jack underwent a few slight positive changes to his demeanor as well. Definitely more energetic. Seemed to have a lot more talkative power. Rhys supposed this was a good thing. To top it off, Jack’s sleep schedule seemed to have straightened itself out. He came into the office much less tired and much less moody during early mornings.

In short, life was good and Rhys was practically glowing. He and Jack’s relationship was still rather lighthearted. Rhys enjoyed this way: a relationship that didn’t hinder a friendship. Rhys didn’t want to move forwards with anything too quickly. 

\-------––--

It was a rather pleasant afternoon and Rhys had just ridden the elevator up for his afternoon shift after lunch. He sauntered into the office and practically fell into the rolly chair at his desk. Leaning over his table he raised an eyebrow at the scene before him. His eyes shifted from the body on the floor to Jack wiping off his pistol barrel up at his desk. 

“What happened to that guy?” 

“I shot him.”

“Oh. Well nice shot.”

“Thanks.”

Rhys automatically called up a janitor to remove the corpse. Jack watched the janitor enter with a baleful eye. 

“Get the bloodstains out of the carpet too,” he ordered. The janitor nodded quickly and set to work. After swiftly finishing the job in a matter of minutes, the janitor left in a fearful hurry. Jack sighed, tossing his gun rag haphazardly onto his desk. 

“So what was the deal with that guy?” Rhys asked.

“The janitor? To clean up the body dum-dum.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Oh right. Yeah, found out that guy'd been doing some money laundering, thought I should let him have a chat with my pistol barrel,” Jack mimed finger guns, leaning back in his large yellow chair. Then he turned to Rhys.

“So how’s your break been?” 

Rhys leaned back in his chair, tapping a couple things on the holographic screen projecting out of his metal hand. 

“Good. Went to lunch with friends. Dropped by the store to grab groceries for my roommate,” Rhys answered, shuffling through a few papers strewn across his desk. 

“You said you picked up groceries? Why would you need to do that if the whole snack is right here,” Jack gestured to Rhys with a smug grin. 

“That was a terrible line. Like, really, really bad,” Rhys noted, looking up at Jack. 

“I might shoot you for that one,” he continued, studying his cybernetic arm and wondering if it was possible to modify it with a gun. Jack laughed. 

“Do it. Do it you wont.”

“Don’t make me come up there and kiss yo–” Rhys countered but was unable to finish when a sharp spark flashed up his metal arm. He hissed and clutched his shoulder. Jack immediately sprang to his feet and peered down at Rhys with serious concern.

“What's wrong?”

Rhys winced. 

“Agh, not sure. My arm just–ah don’t worry about it,” he waved his flesh hand. A grimace masked his face and he clutched the shoulder plates of his arm. A sensation of several hot sparks burned into the edges of his skin around the metal graftings. Pain flickered on and off, from burning to relief, burning to relief. 

In an attempt to gingerly raise his cybernetic, the limb stuttered choppily, malfunctioning. 

“Shit!” Rhys exclaimed. Using his flesh hand he scrabbled at the hinges of his arm and pried them open. Jack hopped out from behind his desk and hovered over Rhys with concern. 

Detaching the arm from his shoulder, Rhys set the metal limb on the desk. Jack peered at the metal and then back at Rhys. 

“You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah I think so,” Rhys muttered, flexing his now limbless shoulder. 

“Do you know why it’s malfunctioning?” Jack asked, leaning on Rhys’s desk. Rhys shook his head. 

“Friggin’ dumbass scientist probably made a mistake,” Jack grumbled. 

“I’ll take a look at it for you.”

Rhys glanced at him in surprise. 

“How would you–I hate to break it to you but you’re the CEO...not an engineer,” Rhys raised his eyebrows. Jack looked positively affronted. 

“First of all, before I was CEO I was Hyperion’s top fuckin’ mechanics engineer, missy. I can take a look at a little arm malfunction,” he scowled. Rhys blinked. 

“You were?”

“Yep. I was a damn good one too. I still am,” Jack noted, nodding proudly. He then ambled back to his own desk and Rhys watched as he jabbed a foot into the wood. A drawer popped out. From the drawer, he procured what appeared to be a small toolkit. Heading back over to Rhys, he placed the toolkit on the ground in front of Rhys’s desk. Then, straightening back up he plucked Rhys’s arm from the desk before offering a helping hand to Rhys himself. Rhys accepted his hand, standing up from his chair. 

“Come here.”

Jack guided Rhys over to the space on the floor just in front of the desk. He let go of Rhys’s flesh hand and plopped down on the carpet, legs criss-crossed. 

“Ok lay down.”

“Wh–?”

Jack patted the space in front of him. 

“Right here, sugar,” he clarified. Rhys paused for a moment before obliging with a shrug. 

“Alright,” Rhys muttered, carefully laying down. 

“Wait take off your vest first, it’s getting in the way of your arm socket.”

Shrugging off this vest, Rhys tossed it to the side. He then leaned back and looked up backwards at Jack. 

“I don’t see how this helps.” 

Jack snorted. 

“You aren’t close enough, dum-dum. Put your head here, on my legs–yep right there.”

Rhys adjusted his position and laid his head into Jack’s lap. Jack patted his hair. 

“There. Now what’s up what that arm of yours,” Jack trailed off, leaning over Rhys to peer at his open shoulder. He cautiously poked around with a finger and Rhys let out a yelp, flinching violently as the port sparked. Jack withdrew his hand and gave Rhys’s head a reassuring pat. Rhys glared up at him. 

“Is this gonna be a weird game of painful operation or do you know what’s wrong?”

An upside-down Jack frowned, tapping his chin in thought. 

“Yeah...looks like one of the main ports is loose. Shouldn’t be a big deal though, right?”

“You tell me engineer-expert,” Rhys shrugged. Jack grinned. 

“Okay. It’s not a big deal because I said so. Might take a while though so relax, you’re kinda tense,” Jack turned and grabbed the toolkit from beside him, prying the box open and bringing out a small screwdriver. Rhys sighed and closed his eyes, letting himself go limp. 

“I’m trusting you not to fuck it up,” he warned. 

“Did you forget who I am?? I won’t fuck it up,” Jack snorted. 

“Good,” Rhys muttered, smiling. Jack set to work on Rhys’s open shoulder for a good while. Rhys was in a peaceful state of relaxation. He barely noticed Jack had begun to hum quietly to himself. Despite his subdued humming, Rhys found a peculiar sort of silence between them. Silence was seldom and felt very strange since Jack was usually full of endless words. Rhys didn’t dislike the silence, he simply found it sort of strange. He needed something to talk about. Before he could speak, Jack beat him to it. 

“So...how have you been feeling lately?” He asked. 

“About what?”

“You know...us,” Jack elaborated, almost hesitantly. 

“Good. I think we’re very good,” Rhys murmured, warmth blossoming in his chest. 

“I like us.”

Jack sort of sighed before continuing. 

“That’s nice. I like us too,” he continued, voice clearing. Silence fell between them for a few moments before Jack spoke again. 

“What’s it like with cybernetics?” He blurted out. He sounded genuinely curious. Rhys smiled. 

“Pretty handy. It helps with getting work done faster,” he replied positively. 

“Although the social aspect of it used to be a little tough,” Rhys’s smile faded. A few years worth of insecurities and worrying over his own appearance flitted through his mind. This was something he hadn’t visited in a LONG time. He paused for a moment. He’d never told anyone about this before. The insecurity aspect of the whole metal arm thing. He started back up slowly. 

“Cybernetics were a fairly new thing when I got mine...they had a bit of a stigma around them…Some dumb thing about us being less human because of some dumb pieces of metal. The ECHOeye was the worst…” Rhys muttered. 

“I mean, people looked at me strangely. I was deemed disposable because I was ‘part’ bot,” Rhys elaborated. He thought back to those long years. The massive blue swirling ink tattooed along down the left side of his body? He’d gotten that done so people would have something else to gawk at other than his mechanical parts. 

“For a long time, I was at the bottom of the Hyperion. Didn’t have a great job and it was hard to make friends or connections. I was alone for a long time until I was able to score a job in one of the higher weapons departments,” Rhys remarked. 

“Then after a few years I was able to make friends. Until about five or six years ago, cybernetic implants still had a stigma around them. Then more people started getting them because of hazardous work areas or taking trips to Pandora,” he explained. 

“So I got over the whole appearance-insecurity thing in a few years,” Rhys murmured. 

“Although I assume you can’t really relate. Being handsome and all,” Rhys opened a lazy eye and gave Jack a small grin. To his surprise, Jack’s face was rather somber.

“You’d be surprised,” he muttered, keeping his eyes on his hands at work on Rhys’s shoulder. With a light laugh, a hollow smile reached his expression. 

“I don’t exactly _ want _ to wear a mask of my own face,” he sucked in...then scowled. 

“Don’t ask about it.”

“Sure,” Rhys shrugged with his remaining arm. He’d procured yet another Jack mystery. Just when Rhys thought he’d figured all those Jack-enigmas out. 

Rhys had to admit, he’d always been curious about Jack’s peculiar appearance. Why _ did _ Jack wear a mask? Of his own face of all things? Did he look different underneath? Questions bounced around his mind but he let them slide. Jack clearly wasn't in the mood to talk about it. 

“Also I’ve been meaning to say...I’m sorry if I’m kind of...slow at this whole relationship,” Rhys shifted the subject. Jack’s eyebrows shot up. 

“Why? You don’t have to be. I don’t mind that much.”

“I’m just...I’m not a relationship kind of guy…” Rhys muttered. 

“Another tragic backstory piece, eh?”

“Yeah...I’ve always been pretty alone. I’d given up on romance because I got backstabbed by my last ex really hard. Damaged my career and almost ruined my life completely,” Rhys sighed. 

“Decided no more dating after that. Until you,” he smiled, glancing up at Jack. Jack twisted the tool in his hands before letting it clatter from his fingertips as he gazed down at Rhys. A soft smile twisted across his mask. 

“Don’t worry about it, you’re perfect,” he comforted. Rhys exhaled and glanced away, feeling a deep flush crawl up his neck. 

“So how's my shoulder coming along?”

“I just finished. You can get up now,” Jack informed him, giving his hair one last ruffle. Rhys sat up glaring at his metal shoulder. Stupid cybernetics were a big pain in the ass sometimes. After rising to his feet, he gave his joint an experimental flex before nodding. 

“Wooh! Feels fine, better even. Could you toss me my arm?”

“Sure thing, cupcake,” Jack indeed tossed Rhys’s arm over. Buckling up the latches, Rhys felt his joint click into place as each port ringing his graftings leveled out. The blue lights across his wrist flickered on. Turning his cybernetic over and flexing his smooth fingers, Rhys found no pain. All joints and connections appeared were in full order. 

He turned to face Jack, who was now leaning against the desk with a grin, his hand on his hip. 

“Well thanks, I didn’t know you were good with mechanical stuff,” Rhys whistled, smiling as he studied his now-functional metal limb. Jack leaned forwards with a pout. 

“No ‘thank you’?”

“I just did–”

Jack raised an eyebrow. Rhys rolled his eyes. 

“Yeah, yeah, come here,” Rhys held out his arms and Jack waltzed right into them, quite pleased. He leaned down and Rhys chuckled as Jack pressed a kiss to his lips. Rhys hummed and threw his arms around Jack’s neck. Parting, he leaned his head against Jack’s shoulder. 

“Y'know, I knew you were special the moment I laid eyes on you,” Jack began, smiling. 

“Really now?” 

“Uh-huh. I also thought you were very handsome, which is a serious compliment coming from me,” Jack explained, throwing his arms over Rhys’s shoulders. 

“And if that wasn’t enough to turn my head, you started bossing me around and I was like 'Huh. I haven’t killed this guy for bossing me around...and yeah it's kinda hot but also kinda weird.’ Then I started to realize just how much I liked having you around,” Jack admitted, bumping his head into Rhys’s with a quiet sigh, grinning. Rhys snorted. 

“Didn’t take me very long to figure it out, since I’m just amazing like that. I knew why I felt oddly comfy around you. Why I felt so goddamn cozy and then empty when you’d leave,” Jack continued. 

“I knew I’d accidentally gotten a bit too attached. Haven’t been in love for a good few years, took me a day or two to figure out how I felt about you,” he muttered. Rhys beamed. 

“Well I just thought you were very attractive when I saw you,” he shared. 

Jack raised an eyebrow. 

“Everyone’s attracted to me when they first see me. It’d actually be weird if they weren’t.”

“Yeah no shit. There’s something very hot about being powerful and really dangerous. Then I realized you were a massive asshole and for some reason I tripped head over heels,” Rhys grinned. 

Jack snorted, letting out a chuckle. 

“Seriously? You like me for my personality?”

“Yeah. I was surprised too.”

Rhys raised his head and pressed a kiss to one of his sharp high cheekbones. Jack turned his head and caught his lips in another kiss. 

“I really like you,” he murmured. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“I want us to be like this forever,” Rhys mumbled in response through his lips. Jack grinned, leaning back from the kiss and instead bumping his forehead against Rhys’s. 

“I think that’s in order. I’d never let anything happen to you, sugar.”

“Nah, I’d never let anything happen to you first,” Rhys smiled stubbornly. Jack snorted and wrapped his arms tighter around his partner. 

“I’m never lettin’ you go.”

\------------

The next morning Rhys woke in his own bed, a rare positivity already flowing through his mind. He checked the ECHOeye clock and then scrambled out of bed in a hurry realizing the time. Shit! He’d been getting later and later to work everyday by accidentally sleeping in. Banging open his bedroom door, he burst into the kitchen only to realize...

_ Wait. Today’s my day off. _

Rhys was stupid. He smacked a hand over his forehead and furiously massaged his disheveled mess of bed head. Goddamnit, he needed to get his shit together one of these days. Vaughn emerged from his own bedroom, blearily rubbing his eyes and groggily pushing his glasses up his nose. 

“Oh hey, g’mornin’. It’s your day off right? Mind cooking for me?”

“Yeah no problem,” Rhys waved a hand, ambling over to the stove to heat up a pan. As he cracked a couple eggs, his thoughts wandered to events of the previous day. That whole relaxed afternoon with Jack had been rather nice and completely enlightened Rhys’s mood. They’d had a very nice afternoon together and Rhys found himself grinning like an idiot at the simple memory of it. 

Feeding both himself and Vaughn a plate of eggs, Rhys embraced his day off that morning and made himself tea. Vaughn was out the door in ten minutes, waving goodbye as he headed off to work. For the rest of the day, Rhys was alone in the apartment. During the morning he lounged around the couch, occasionally scrolling through his ECHOpad or the tv. 

At lunchtime, he hit the cafeteria to meet up with his friends. Afterwards, he took the long route back home, taking a nice stroll through Helios in order to stretch his legs at bit. Returning back to his apartment, Rhys ambled into his bedroom and collapsed on the bed face first. Then he opened up his ECHO. Boredly, he texted Jack,

_ what r u doin rn _

A minute or two was all it took for Jack to reply. 

_ im ordering a firing squad to go to opportunity and i also miss u :] _

_ sounds lovely and dont worry ill b back tomorow _Rhys replied with a slight smile. He tossed his ECHO aside and flipped over onto his back, tucking his hands behind his head. He stared blankly at the ceiling, a slight grin still plastered across his face as a warmth blossomed in his chest. Jeez. Life really was good. 

\----------

The clock had just struck eight o’ clock in the night. Vaughn had retired to his bedroom and already passed out. Across the hall, Rhys was sitting upright on the edge of his bed, chin resting on his metal hand, eyes slightly unfocused as he lost himself in thought. What was he thinking about? Well...the obvious….yep...guessed it...Jack. Rhys wanted to see Jack. Only a day had passed and Rhys was already missing him. Sighing, Rhys swayed to his feet and stumbled from his bedroom and over to the apartment door in order to find his shoes. If he wanted to see Jack...well he’d have to go find him himself. 

Leaving his apartment, Rhys strolled down the hallway and turned down the next corridor, headed for the elevators. Stepping into the next available one, he glanced up at the numbers above the door, watching them tick by until hitting the top floor. Exiting the elevator, his pace subconsciously quickened and he half jogged down to Jack’s office doors. They slid open for him without a word. Striding past Meg’s empty desk, Rhys stepped into Jack’s office. 

To his disappointment, Jack was not in his usual position behind the desk. He must have already retired to the penthouse. Rhys crossed the carpeted floor without a sound and stood in front of the red elevator doors. 

“Hey AGIS, am I allowed to go up?” He asked, glancing around. 

“Yeah, here,” AGIS opened the elevator doors for him. Damn AGIS was cool. Rhys thanked the AI before stepping in and clutching the nearest railing. Rhys wanted to make this a quick visit: Pop in, say hello to Jack and then go to bed. Once the elevator slid to a halt, doors opening soundlessly, Rhys stepped into the penthouse’s living area. He peered around the dimmed room curiously. Jack was not present. 

“Hello? You home?”

A silence echoed around the penthouse before Jack’s voice reached his ears. 

“Rhys? Yeah...right now’s not a great time. Get out.”

Jack’s voice was slightly muted, coming from down the right-hand hallway. 

For a moment Rhys was stunned, taken aback by the frank harshness of his words. His words made Rhys want to spit back a haughty retort and march right back into the elevator. But something stopped him from whirling around and making an exit. Jack sounded...unusual. Not that Rhys could say un-Jack-like...but...also un-Jack-like. He didn’t seem very...angry. In fact, his voice seemed to have a weirdly wobbly edge to the note. 

“You alright?” 

“Yeah. Look, I’ll see you tomorrow, ‘kay?” Jack answered. Rhys frowned. There it was again. That strange note to his voice. Jack sounded about as tired as usual but tonight his tone was dashed with a bit of...anxiousness? That was odd and struck Rhys as strange. 

Jack was always sure never to hint at even the wisp of anxiousness, ever. Probably took his anxiety as a serious vice. 

So Rhys wanted to make sure he was okay.

The red elevator doors slid open behind Rhys and he didn’t bother to give the now-open doors backwards glance.

“Okay, I’ll come by tomorrow,” Rhys chirped. Ignoring his own words, he instead stepped away from the elevator and forwards to the right-hand hallway. He ducked through the threshold and moved towards the open door of Jack’s bedroom. That’s where his voice was coming from. Rhys was silent as humanly possible. He crept up to the bedroom’s threshold and waited for a moment. Hearing nothing else he swept out from behind the doorframe and–

“Jack?” He asked, surveying the room before him. 

“Woah!”

Rhys’s hands shot up in an immediate gesture of surrender as the familiar click of a pistol being loaded reached his ears. Jack was teetering on the edge of the far side of the bed, half turned towards the doorway. He was clad in nothing but his yellow sweater and jeans. One hand was smothered over his own face and the other clutching his trusty pistol which was aimed towards Rhys in the doorway. 

Identifying the intruder as Rhys, he dropped the gun, firearm clattering to the floor. He turned away, the back of his Hyperion sweater facing Rhys.

“I thought you left,” Jack growled. 

“I was worried. You sounded...weird. Is everything okay?” Rhys asked, leaning in the doorway. He was curious as to why Jack refused to face him. 

“Yeah. Everything's friggin’ fine. You need to go now,” Jack grumbled in a low voice. 

“What’s wrong with you? Is everything okay?” Rhys repeated, worries growing. His voice had dropped to a serious tone as he stepped forwards into the bedroom. 

“Get the hell out. Now. Everything’s fine, thanks for asking, except for you comin’ in here,” Jack snarled, shoulders bristling with a defensive wild hostility. Yet Jack refused to whip around and bare his furious contorted grimace towards an unfazed Rhys. Glancing around Jack’s bedroom, Rhys paused, halfway across the room from Jack. 

“Well I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me. What’s going o–” Rhys faltered, his eyes falling on a peculiar familiar shape resting on the edge of Jack’s nightstand to his left. The object was long, pale and shiny. The odd shape was painstakingly familiar because it was–

“...Oh. Do you...do you want your mask back?” Rhys ventured softly, identifying the mask perched on nightstand, opposite side of the bed from Jack. That would explain his hesitancy to face Rhys. At the moment Jack was maskless. Something Rhys couldn’t even begin fathom. The mask of Handsome Jack was quite literally Jack’s identity. Something Handsome Jack was never seen without. 

Jack must’ve been feeling quite vulnerable at the moment, which would explain his hostility. Rhys wondered how much time had passed since someone had seen the face–Jack’s _ real _face under the mask. 

Jack tensed, almost instinctively curling up. 

“Yeah.”

“You want me to get it for you?”

There was no answer. Rhys was met with a bristling silence.

“I promise I won't look, okay?” Rhys added, tone much softer than usual. The mask was a mark of Jack’s vulnerability. This was of utmost importance. 

And although Rhys had already promised, curiosity was clawing at his mind. What _ did _Jack look like under the mask?

At last Jack answered his question, voice slightly muffled by his palm resting over his mouth. 

“Fine.”

Crossing the floor, Rhys approached the mask on the nightstand, gaping in curiosity at its smooth pale form. Eyeless holes gaped back at him. Rhys noted small dried flecks of blood dotting the hinges positioned near the temples and chin. 

Rhys’s curious eyes flickered to the thin pale curve of lips. This whole time that was all he’d been kissing. Just a cold, pale mask. Jack’s mask. With delicate fingers he plucked the surprisingly heavy face from the nightstand and ambled around to Jack’s side of the bed. 

Squeezing his eyes shut, Rhys stumbled forwards, warm flesh palm outstretched with the mask as an offering. He felt Jack’s rough fingers brush against his as the mask was snatched from his grasp. 

“Just tell me when you’re ready,” Rhys stood before Jack, eyes still faithfully glued shut. He rested his hands on his hips. Rhys heard the faint clicking of latches snapping closed and a minute later...

“...‘Kay. Safe to look now,” Jack said, his voice gruffer than usual. Opening his eyes, Rhys glanced down at Jack, still hunched over the edge of the bed. He was glaring up at Rhys, the pale mask now fitted over his face back to its rightful place.

“Happy now, cupcake?”

Rhys’s eyes flickered over the hinges of his mask, peering at the grafted metal and leaning in for better observation. Jack froze for a moment, unsure of Rhys’s intentions. 

The skin where the latches grafted into Jack’s real skin was raw and clearly agitated. Red scabbing had broken over the space between skin and metal. It looked rather painful. Rhys frowned,

“Is your–” 

Jack suddenly shot to his feet, a cracked version of his trademark grin returning across the mask. 

“Alright! Real touchy feely moment there, huh. Now back to business!. Actually wait, it’s like nine o’ clock. How’s alcohol sound, alcohol good?” Jack raised his voice out of the dumps and back to the charming raucous tone. His obvious facade didn’t fool Rhys. 

With ginger care, Rhys slowly reached up with his flesh hand. Creeping his fingers towards the bloodied chin clasp with delicate concern, his knuckles had barely brushed the skin of the mask when there was a blur of movement. Jack swiftly knocked his hand into Rhys’s wrist, harshly slapping him away. 

“Don’t try it. It’s not pretty,” he warned, hissing as a flash of hot anger dashed his voice. Rhys ignored his protest and persisted to reach up once more. Jack took a half step backwards, eyeing his hand with a wary gaze. 

“Rhys...I’m warning you–”

“Hey, it’s okay. I’m the only one here...you don’t have to wear the mask,” he comforted, fingers trailing along Jack’s jawline where cold faux skin met warm flesh. Jack struggled internally for a moment. Then Rhys watched a limpness flow through his body. His head hung a little lower. He gave up the protesting and let Rhys past his defenses. 

Bringing up his metal hand to the other side of Jack’s face, Rhys delicately traced the edges of the faux skin all the way up his forehead and smoothly unhooked his topmost hinges. He then moved back down and felt around under his jawline for the thin latches, hearing a small click as they fell open. Gingerly, Rhys lifted Jack’s pale features from his very face, placing the mask on the bed behind him. 

As Rhys turned back around he was met face to face with Jack’s true features. Not his sharp, handsome, pale ones, his real ones. 

And Rhys recoiled sharply. He couldn’t halt the instinctive flinch as a jolt of horrified shock ran through his body. Jack let out a hollowing echoed laugh sounding uncharacteristically empty, sadly hopeless and desolate. 

“See? Told you you wouldn’t like it, pumpkin.”

His face was scarred so badly Rhys almost thought about taking Jack to the nearest hospital right then and there. 

A deep gash ran up from his right cheek, peaking just above the bridge of his nose and cutting through his left eye. A blueish-red discoloration of the canyon walls carved into his face brought the whole disfigurement together. The shape pressed into his face was uncanny. A Vault symbol. A twisted ugly blue. Surface skin rose half an inch above the melted tissue folding inwards. Jack’s left eye was completely gone, instead replaced with a glassy, milky white marble. He was half blind.

Near his horribly marred features were the metal latches grafted into his skin. Rhys noticed the bright red irritation and patches of dried blood oozing from the space between skin and metal. Jack should at least get that cleaned to prevent infection. 

“I’ll be right back,” Rhys murmured softly, withdrawing his hand and quickly turning towards the bedroom door. Glancing behind him on the way out, Jack’s form remained hunched over, perched on the edge of the bed again, head in hands. He was hollowly chuckling to himself. 

Rhys hated the sight of him, sitting like that. Well...everyone had scars to bear, some just more visible than others. 

In the bathroom, Rhys retrieved a cloth from the closet and ran it under a sink full of hot water. Wringing the washcloth out, he returned to the bedroom. Jack didn’t raise his head from his hands. Rhys quietly sat down beside him, mattress sinking under the new weight. Jack lowered his hands and turned his marred face towards Rhys. A brilliant blue and opaque white set of eyes turned towards him, sightlessly. Hollow. He blinked.

Rhys reached over with the soft warm cloth and gingerly dotted the flecks of blood coating the edges of his hinges. Jack winced and jerked back for a moment. Rhys recoiled. 

“Sorry, does that hurt?”

Jack shook his head. 

“No...it’s fine.”

Rhys tried again as Jack leaned forwards in invitation. Rhys carefully wiped his chin-clasp free of blood. The skin around the grafting remained red and irritated but at least now it was clean. As Rhys moved onto the next latch Jack was quiet. He occasionally shifted, or made a small hiss as Rhys brushed an irritated patch but other than that he remained silent. 

Rhys didn’t dare move the cloth anywhere near the symbol carved across his features.

Finishing the cleaning, Rhys wordlessly folded up the washcloth and returned it to the washroom. Returning to Jack, he plopped down on the bed beside him once more, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Jack blinked at him, the white marble gazing sightlessly. 

“There, all better,” Rhys smiled, reaching up and brushing a piece of stray hair from Jack’s forehead.

“Sorry about that. It’s disgusting, not really handsome, I know,” Jack muttered, turning his chin away, fingers curling in his lap. Rhys reached over and squeezed his hand. 

“Don’t be sorry...and that’s not entirely true.”

“You don’t have to lie,” Jack muttered. 

“I’m not,” Rhys countered, leaning forwards and lightly brushing his lips against Jack’s marred cheek. Jack remained unmoving, his head still turned away. Stroking a thumb along Jack’s jawline, Rhys moved his kiss a little closer to Jack’s lips. To Rhys’s delight, Jack’s real face was much warmer than the cool, sharp sensation of the mask. He felt more...alive. 

Then Jack sort of...melted. He turned, half falling into Rhys’s arms, pressing a furious kiss to Rhys’s lips. As warmth blossomed in his chest, Rhys found himself falling backwards as Jack leaned over him, cupping the sides of his face as his head hit the mattress. Jack was fast and rough, barely leaving room for Rhys to keep up as a new sense of comforting heat flowed through him. Jack trailed down Rhys’s jawline, closer to his neck and paused, breath curling in his ear. 

“I really love you, you know that,” he murmured in a low voice. Rhys snorted. 

“I know,” he replied, pulling Jack down for more. The night was still young and they had all the time in the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyyyyyy!! Guess who finished writing the rough draft of this whole fanfic? Me!! Solius! (Kinda proud of myself) Chapters will b out quicker now, cuz all I have to do is revisions/proofreading so wooooh!


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> read th tags in the description carefully don't worry B)

The world blearily spun into focus as Rhys stirred awake. Taking in his surroundings, he discovered he was in Jack’s room. Again. Groaning, Rhys rubbed his head as the previous night’s memories came to light. Realizing what had happened, Rhys was suddenly quite awake and alert, a tinge of red coloring his cheeks. 

There had been...a lot of passion...to put it lightly. Slowly coming to the realization he was missing both a shirt  _ and  _ pants Rhys glanced around, spotting them haphazardly thrown on the floor. 

Glancing at the rumpled sheets beside him, he found Jack was missing. He’d gotten up before Rhys...again _ .  _ Sighing, Rhys rubbed his eyes. Would it seriously kill Jack to stay in bed at least  _ one  _ morning?

Rhys suddenly jumped, tensing up at the sound of an angry yell down the hallway. Rhys blinked, staring at the open doorway. Well shit. Jack was already awake and fully enraged. Rhys was fairly sure whatever was provoking Jack’s morning anger wasn’t because of him.

Quickly snatching his clothes off the carpet, Rhys dressed himself in record speed, stumbling out of the bedroom, buttoning up his blue collared shirt and throwing the red tie around his neck. Emerging from the hallway, he spied Jack pacing agitatedly across the living room with a pistol clenched in his fist. Rhys eyed the gun warily before raising his eyes to take in Jack’s appearance. 

Jack’s mask had been re-fastened over his marred features. He was clad in his full generic outfit including all three or four layers around his torso and jacket trailing just above his knees. His hair remained a disheveled mess. Jack’s mask was contorted in mad fury, mouth turned downwards into a grimace and eyebrows deeply furrowed. He looked  _ angry.  _ Really angry. A real black murderous fury flickered in his eyes as his shoulders bristled. 

“Jack?” Rhys began, warily.

“Oh, you’re awake,” Jack observed, keeping his words short. Rhys took a few steps forward.

“What’s going on?” he asked cautiously. He hadn’t the faintest what triggered Jack’s fury, especially this early in the morning. Quite frankly, Rhys was worried. Whatever brought out a serious rage this early in the morning must be bad. 

“Remember that siren bitch?” Jack began, growling as he pivoted on a heel and stormed to the other end of the living room at an agitated pace. Rhys noticed his finger itching on the trigger of his pistol. 

And yes. Rhys most certainly did remember her. After all, it’s not often you get smashed into a concrete wall by one of the most powerful women in the universe.

“Yeah...what about her? I thought she got crushed under the highland facility.”

“Guess again.”

“So she’s still alive. Is that why you’re angry?”

“I’m angry because the fucker insulted me,” Jack’s eyes narrowed as he whirled around to stalk across the living room once more. As Rhys’s eyes followed his form, he couldn’t help a nervous laugh. 

“Getting worked up over an insult? That’s not like you...What in hell did she say to make you angry? I didn’t know it was possible,” Rhys replied, crossing his arms.

“It was a personal attack. A real one, not just some dainty little, “oh show your face around here again and I’ll shoot you!” Jack mimicked a high pitched voice before his tone dropped back to a seething growl. 

“The bitch must have found Timothy. You remember him, right? About yay high, identical handsomeness? Yeah. Looks like the Raiders got him,” Jack spat out, fury dripping from his words.

“What does that mean–“

“Oh, whoops. Guess I didn’t make that clear. It means they murdered him,” Jack interjected, snarling out an answer.

“They...oh…”

A shadow of sadness passed over Rhys. He hadn’t known Timothy well or long at all. They’d met...what...like once? But even their first and last brief introduction, Tim had managed to strike Rhys in a good way. Tim had literally given his identity in order to chase after a good life. He was simply doing his best at the job he’d sold himself into. He was a good man, he didn’t deserve to die. The Raiders must have killed him under the guise he was Jack. 

“Jeez...I...“ Rhys began, rubbing his forehead as the news settled in his mind.

“You wanna know how they did it?” Jack halted mid-pace and stood in the center of the living room, a terrifying wave of calm washing over his voice. Rhys lifted his gaze to meet Jack’s eyes. Scarily enough, Rhys was met with a calm fury glazed over Jack’s expression. The calm before the storm. Like he was about to explode. 

“They cut off his head–“ Jack broke off and chucked his pistol to the ground in a fit of rage, his fingers curling into fists.

“GOD FUCKING DAMNIT I’LL TEAR EACH AND EVERY ONE OF THEIR LUNGS OUT OF THEIR CHEST. THEY CAN WATCH THEMSELVES TAKE THEIR FINAL BREATH AS I CRUSH THEIR FUCKING WINDPIPES,” Jack’s violent outburst ripped through the room causing Rhys to flinch. He stared at the bristling form of the man in front of him. Rhys could practically see the rage coming off him in waves. 

Shit. Jack was off the rails over this. Quite honestly, rightly so. Rhys edged a step forward, completely calm. He’d seen Jack like this before, way back when the moonshot broke. Rhys just needed to mellow Jack out. He raised his hands. 

“Hey, heyyy. It’s okay, just calm down. Shouting won’t help any–“

“–You wanna know what that siren bitch did after severing his head for a live  _ fucking  _ Pandora broadcast?” Jack interrupted softly, his voice quelling back down to a scary calm. 

“I–“

“That’s the thing! She didn’t even say anything. Just tossed the head away as his– _ my  _ decapitated body fell to the ground,” Jack’s words were dead cold and wicked sharp. He shuddered violently, a heaving laugh wracking his body and spilling from his mouth. Deranged.

“Heh–Hah! I’m gonna be honest! It would have been bloody hilarious if it wasn’t MY GODDAMN FACE SHE WAS HOLDING,” Jack roared, hunching over, screaming at the floor. And then it was gone. The moment of rage passed in an instant. His composure snapped back upright faster than Rhys could blink. Jack ran both hands through his birds-nest hair, smoothing back the stray locks that had fallen into his eyes. He sucked in a deep breath. 

“The bitch wants to make it personal by attacking  _ me _ ?  _ My  _ image?  _ My  _ face? Fine. I’ll go down there and gouge out her eyeballs with a friggin’ spoon myself, Jack style,” Jack hissed, a toothy snarl twisting into his mask.

Rhys could do nothing but stare helplessly at the mess of a man before him. He wanted to help, oh he desperately wanted to help but he couldn’t formulate the words to fix this.

There were no words to fix this. Rhys’s feet remained rooted to the carpet as he stood dumbly in the middle of the room, a newfound crushing weight pushing down on his shoulders. His thoughts were a jumbled panicked mess. He tried to get his thoughts flowing and his brain working. he tried to  _ think _ . But between Jack’s contagious rage filling like a hot balloon and the sadness of Timothy’s passing weighing Rhys’s thoughts, thinking was incredibly difficult.

Jack stormed over to where his flung pistol lay on the carpet and snatched up the gun. Fastening the weapon to his belt, he whirled around and stormed past Rhys towards the elevator. 

“I’m going down to Pandora to put a bullet in her skull once and for all,” he growled, stomping towards the exit. Reaching out with his metal hand, Rhys snagged the edges of his sleeve and forcefully yanked him backwards. He stumbled to a halt before whipping around and meeting Rhys’s gaze with a glare.

“You can’t stop me. I’m going,” he twisted his arm out of Rhys’s grip and rubbed his wrist. 

“This is what Lilith wants. It’s a trap. She’s trying to provoke you, use your head!”

“I know it’s a trap. I just don’t give a flying fuck,” Jack threw up a hand. 

“No. You can’t go down there and–”

“You don’t understand!” Jack hissed, jabbing a thumb up towards his mask for emphasis. 

“She used  _ MY _ face. This is personal!”

“Then let me come with you.”

Jack paused, briefly considering this proposition before he firmly shook his head. 

“No. It’s too dangerous, I don’t need you getting shot yet again.”

“Jack, you’re being incredibly fucking stupid–”

“I said  _ NO _ goddammit! Are you even listening to me?” Jack’s voice climbed to a near yell. 

“Yeah, and I don’t  _ care _ !” Rhys threw up his hands, glaring stubbornly at Jack. There wasn’t even a smidgeon of a chance he’d let Jack bounce down to Pandora and waltz right into such an obvious trap. Jack would most definitely get himself killed, especially since he would be doing exactly what Lilith hoped. 

He didn’t have great odds either. Eighty-twenty percent chance he’d fuck up and die. 

Rhys refused to change his mind. He stubbornly shook his head and firmly crossed his arms, blocking Jack’s way to the elevator. Jack scowled at him.

“I’m not letting you go down there and get your ass ki–mph!” Rhys stumbled back as Jack suddenly lunged forwards, fingers curled around the edges of Rhys’s cheeks. He aggressively smothered Rhys’s words with his lips and Rhys found his eyes sliding shut. Leaning into his kiss, he passionately returned the favor. Breaking apart, Rhys was breathless, staring into Jack’s hard furied gaze. Jack closed his eyes, pressing a much softer kiss to Rhys’s lips before bumping his forehead against Rhys’s. 

“No. You’re too important. I’m not letting you come,” he murmured. Rhys tried to chase him with another kiss. 

“Then  _ stay.  _ Let it rest, Jack. We can handle this a way that doesn’t involve risking your life over a  _ personal insult. _ ” 

Jack stepped back, the ghost of a wide grin pulling at the edges of his mask. 

“Sorry, pumpkin. I can’t. Not this time. This has to be me and only me. I don’t–” Jack took a deep breath. 

“I don’t think you realize just how much you mean to me. I’m sorry, Rhys. Just...I...I...” Jack’s shoulders sagged as he gave up trying to formulate a sentence and instead forcefully brushed past Rhys, hopping into the already-open elevator. 

Rhys stood still for a moment, coming to a massive realization. Jack just stuttered. Rhys had never heard him stutter before. It was very un-Jacklike. Jack was confident, always knew what to say. So what did stuttering show? That Jack was shaken up. He really was. Whether by anger, or by Rhys that wasn’t entirely clear. 

Whirling around, Rhys took a step towards the elevator, his fingers curling into fists at his side.

“Don’t you dare–”

“I love you, Rhys. Look I’ll be back by tonight. With a siren head,” he grinned, smashing his fist into the elevator button. 

“Get back here–you!” Rhys called out furiously, springing forwards with a heavy step. The elevator doors snapped shut. Rhys was a second too late. Jack was already gone. Jack was gone. 

“FUCK!” Rhys exclaimed with a cry of anger, sinking his flesh fist into the steel metal of the elevator door. With a cry of pain he sprung back, clutching his bruised fingers. The frustration neatly bottled up in his core exploded, hot anger dousing his thoughts. Suddenly feeling lightheaded, his legs gave out and he sagged to the cold floor, clutching his hand in pain. Head banging against the wall, frustration wracked his body as an inner turmoil stirred. He let out an angry yell and hit his forehead with the hard edge of his cybernetic palm. 

Jack left. Jack was gone. Rhys let him get away. God Jack was stupid. And Rhys was stupid too. Too stupid and weak to stop him. Too weak. Too stupid. So dumb and slow he couldn’t even formulate the right words back in time.  _ I love you.  _

A little rewindable reel played in Rhys’s mind, replaying those words bouncing around his head. Sometimes in Jack’s voice, sometime’s in Rhys’s own. They taunted him. Pulled at him. God Jack was so stupid. So fucking stupid. So emotional and angry he couldn’t even listen to someone who cared about him. 

Rhys took a deep, shaky breath, forcing his emotions down back into a neat little bottle. Clearing the lump forming in his throat, he unfolded his legs and unsteadily staggered to his feet, glaring at the sealed metal elevator doors. Jack would be making his way through Helios at the moment.

Hope flowed through Rhys. Jack was still on Helios. If Rhys could reach him before he departed, he could still stop him...right?

“AGIS, could you let me down?” Rhys asked, spitting through his teeth. 

“No.”

Her voice was infuriatingly pleasant and cool. 

“–Oh for the love of–Come on! Jack needs me! He–He’s gonna die if I can’t go get him,” Rhys glared upwards at the elevator doors. 

“Handsome Jack was clear. You are not to leave this penthouse.”

So Rhys was forced to look at other solutions. 

The optimistic side of his thoughts came forward. Jack was an incredible fighter...smart too. Y’know, he’d probably be fine on Pandora. He seemed pretty frickin’ immortal. He was Handsome goddamn Jack. Nah, never die let himself die alone in the middle of a goddamn Pandoran wasteland by the hand of a friggin’ siren. No, he’d never let that happen. Rhys should trust Jack and his judgement. Jack would be fine, Rhys had nothing to worry about. 

That was his small shred of optimism. Despairing thoughts clouded Rhys’s head and he covered his forehead with a hand. Nah, Jack was going to die. Last encounter on Pandora with Lilith, she’d kicked his shit in.  _ Hard. _ He would’ve choked to death on his own blood in some random Highlands valley if Rhys hadn’t been there to help him out.

Goddammit! If only Rhys had the same quick thinking and swift action he’d possesed back in that siren fight. If he’d had that same speed this morning...maybe he could have stopped Jack. If Rhys had been faster, Jack running off wouldn’t be his fault! ‘Cause this was all Rhys’s fault. Allll of it. See, if he’d been  _ just  _ a step faster and was thinking just a  _ tad _ quicker, Rhys would’ve been able to reach out and reel Jack in before he was too far gone. 

Shit.

Handsome Jack was going to die a stupid death on some desolate Pandoran wasteland. 

\----------

Rhys tried everything. Fucking everything. Kicking the elevator doors,  _ shooting  _ the elevator doors, punching the elevator doors, wedging the elevator doors and even prying them open with his bare hands. His feeble mortal attempts were met with hard steel and impeccable resistance. Nothing worked. The doors didn’t even budge.

He tried running around the apartment searching for a hidden backdoor. Emergency door maybe? As he stormed about the place his determination was met with nothing. Nothing. Jack was so full of himself he only allowed one door in and out of his penthouse. The elevator. And the elevator wasn’t budging anytime soon. For a split second Rhys considered the large bay window before remembering that outside the glass was outer space and he’d be killed in an instant. 

He wouldn’t be any use to Jack dead. Better not touch the window. 

After several more useless attempts to open the doors by hand, Rhys tried several different approaches to force AGIS to let him down. These included: bargaining, pleading, yelling and threatening. He was met with cold silence from the AI. 

Rhys eventually gave up after an hour or two of useless banging. 

Tiredly, he flopped down in the living room chair and closed his eyes as his body sank into the cushion. He took a deep rattling breath, trying to calm his skipping heartbeat and jittery hands. Frustration and anxiety hovered over his thoughts. Anxiousness jolted through his body like a dowse of cold water.

Fear, worry…his mind was racing. Racing and racing and racing his thoughts were flying at record speed and he couldn’t keep his mind straight.

With several shaking breaths, he tried to force himself into a state of peace. Breathing in...counting to five...breathing out. He repeated this action multiple times, gradually slowing down the erratic heart rate. 

Hearing the soft pad of feet he cracked open his eyes to behold a small black void of soft fur padding across the floor. He glanced down as the cat plopped herself at his feet, intently gazing at him with wide eyes. If Rhys didn’t know any better he’d say she’d sensed his distress.

Reaching down couple metal fingers to let her cautiously sniff, Rhys focused his attention on the cat, rather than the anxieties of his mind. 

The worst part of this whole situation was Rhys’s powerlessness to do anything. There was nothing he could do. He was of little use. To make matters worse, he couldn’t even contact Jack since the stupid idiot had left his ECHO on the kitchen counter.

Princess gathered on her haunches before springing into Rhys’s lap, furiously rubbing her head against the hard metal of his robotic hand. Rhys sighed and leaned back into the chair as her warmth gathered into a tight ball, curling up near chest. 

“You think he’ll be alright?” Rhys dryly chuckled, addressing his feline companion. Princess’s tail flicked left and right. 

“Hmm,” Rhys murmured. 

“He’ll be alright, he  _ is _ Handsome Jack after all.”

As Rhys scratched Princess behind her ears, she began to purr. Rhys sighed and let his eyes fall shut. Sleeping would take his mind off the distressed path his thoughts flew down. 

Actually, sleeping would take his mind off everything. Even a light nap would be perfect. He tried his best to drift off. Alas, if only sleep were possible in his emotional state. His heart thudded furiously in his ears and his emotions spiked to new heights. So instead of sleeping, he lay on the chair utterly still, gazing blankly at the ceiling, too paralyzed with anxiety for his mind to rest.

—————-

He remained on the chair for at least an hour, his limbs beginning to stiffen. He forced himself to lay still, trying to calm himself. Achieving any sort of calm was impossible. At last, he could control himself no longer as he sprung upright, dislodging Princess and bouncing to his feet. He had to move. He just had to keep moving. That was the only thing that would help him stay calm. 

Princess curiously observed Rhys furiously pace around the livingroom from her seat on the couch. The pacing helped ease his mind to a small extent. The movement didn’t give him full relief but it did get him focused on other things. 

In the middle of the day, he entered the kitchen and made himself a quick lunch. He could barely bring himself to eat as he sat down at the table, his appetite vanishing. Sitting at the table near the bay window he gazed out into space drumming his flesh fingers on the tabletop, his foot bouncing off the floor. 

Pushing his plate of food away with a sigh, he entered the kitchen and fed the cat before returning to the living room and flopping onto the couch. Opening his ECHO, he found several unopened messages from Vaughn, asking about his whereabouts. Rhys ignored them. He couldn’t deal with a cover story for his friends now. That was too much for the moment.

Tossing the device away, he leaned back, bumping his head on the armrest of the couch and throwing his flesh elbow over his eyes. 

His mind was filled with nothing but pessimistic thoughts. All he could possibly think about was Jack. ‘Think’ wasn’t an accurate term. Existentially worry was a more accurate descriptor.

He wanted more than anything for something to happen. Anything. He  _ needed _ something to happen. He needed to receive at least some sort of news or information about what was going on outside on Pandora. How Jack was doing...what was happening...anything about the situation. Rhys was dying. He needed to know something about the situation, even the teensiest, vaguest sliver of news would be enough. Good news–bad–anything, really. Being left in the unknown was worse than knowing something terrible had happened. 

As if some godlike entity read his mind, Rhys sprung upright and scrambled off the couch as the mechanical whir of the elevator doors reached his ears. Excitement coursed through him as his heart skipped a beat. He whirled around and stomped across the room, watching the crimson doors.

_ Jack?  _

Rhys really hoped Jack had returned. He could clearly imagine his partner’s face, stepping out of the elevator with that charming maniacal grin of his: 

_ “ _ _ Guess who’s back baby!~” _

_ _ But that endearing greeting never arrived. Rhys eyed the doors, heart racing as excitement and relief flooded through him. He watched the doors slide open to reveal…

...To reveal nothing. Rhys’s expression dropped. The interior of the elevator was hollow and empty. No charming presence awaited Rhys behind the red doors. Cautiously, Rhys approached the elevator, peering suspiciously inside. He glanced upwards.

“AGIS? What–?”

“Jack’s returned,” AGIS’s cool voice manifested just above the elevator. All of Rhys’s pent up air he’d sucked into his lungs escaped as he let out a relieved sigh and wiped a hand across his forehead. Jack was back. Jack survived. Oh thank god. An awkward chuckle of relief bubbled up from Rhys’s core and his heart leapt. He mopped a sleeve across his mouth, shaking his head. 

Straightening up, he ran a hand over his gelled hair as a smile broke across his face. Jack was back. Everything was fine. Jack’s little dangerous escapade turned out fine. Smoothing out the cuff of his left sleeve, Rhys glanced up at AGIS’s general area of omittance. 

“Where is he? Is he downstairs celebrating or–?”

“The information I have says he is currently located in Helios’s sub-level labs under R&D,” AGIS answered the question before Rhys could finish asking. Rhys scratched his head. Why on earth would Jack be down there? 

That struck Rhys the wrong way. Something about that information felt off. This whole thing felt off actually. Rhys’s relief slowly melted, giving way to a sharp stab of paranoia. Something was wrong. 

Something must have happened. 

Fuck.

Rhys stepped into the elevator and crossed his arms, glaring at the tops of his shoes, brows furrowed in thought. His inner workings were in total turmoil. He tried to smother this newfound sense of unease and fear with emotions of relief. He tried to convince himself everything was fine. Everything was normal. Hey, Jack was back! That could only mean everything was fine and dandy. 

Drumming his heeled foot on the metal floor, Rhys quickly swept out of the elevator and crossed through Jack’s office exit in a matter of seconds. Curtly greeting Meg, he swept down the hallway, taking the next elevator down, Rhys tapped his foot impatiently and drummed his fingers on his pant leg, regarding anyone nearby with a glowering expression. 

Storming out of the elevator, Rhys’s long brisk strides gradually turned into a panicked jog as he moved through the dimly lit department of R&D. About a week or two ago when he and Jack had come down here, Rhys kept a log in his memory of the twisty route down to the sub-level elevator. Letting a thin line of blue light guide him through the halls, Rhys quickly screeched to a halt in front of the final elevator. He punched the button with excessive force and practically threw himself inside. 

This was it. The final stretch. As the elevator doors opened with a pleasant ding, Rhys stepped out into the gray hallway of Helios’s sub-level secret labs. Glancing around at the startlingly lit hallway lined with laboratory doors, Rhys came to the realization he hadn’t the faintest clue where Jack was. Cursing, Rhys spun on a heel and turned towards the nearest door. He recognized it as Nakayama’s lab.

Despite Rhys’s general dislike of Nakayama’s...uncomfortable nature, that doctor was probably Rhys’s best bet. Rhys grabbed the freezing metal doorknob and twisted it, pushing the door open without prior inquiry. 

Inside the room, Nakayama was standing over the hospital bed in the center of the room, arms folded in front of him. He glanced up as Rhys entered.

“Ah. Hello, I thought you might turn up,” Nakayama greeted him. Rhys opened his mouth to speak when Nakayama continued, pushing his glasses up his nose.

“Although I’m afraid you may be too late, sir.”

Confusion filtered into Rhys’s mind. 

“What?”

What the hell was that supposed to mean? ...Too late? What was Rhys too late to? What was Rhys–

...oh. Nakayama had used a hand to gesture towards the hospital bed. Oh. Wait what did that–?

“I’m uh...I’m not sure what you mean,” Rhys replied, voice a mixture of stony reluctance. He wasn’t sure he wanted an answer from the doctor. Nakayama’s face remained impassive. He gestured with a rough open palm towards the flat cot before him. Rhys felt the blood drain from his cheeks. A coldness washed over his shoulders. He finally addressed the hospital bed. There was something on the cot. Or rather,  _ someone.  _ A crimson-stained sheet was pulled over the figure, covering them up to the neck. The little voice in the back of Rhys’s mind pinged. 

Jack. 

Somehow, Rhys recognized him. Under all the blood it was nearly impossible to identify the bastard. A light sensation flowed through Rhys from head to toe and he stepped forwards in a dream-like trance. He was weightless, his whole body was weightless. He barely felt his feet on the floor.

In a trance, Rhys approached the cot, a cold sensation trickling down his back. He tilted his chin downwards to study the figure below him, resting gravely still on the sheets.

A small shred of Rhys’s mind piped up, 

_ Hey, you never know. Maybe it’s not Jack.  _ But optimism was quickly torn from his thoughts as he observed the body below him. 

There was no denying the facts, no matter how painful. The body was most definitely Jack. His hair ragged and disheveled, splayed out on the white pillow cushioning his head. Heavy eyelids resting shut with a seal of dried blood. He had a strange sort of expression engraved into his mask. Peace. Uncharacteristically calm. It felt wrong. It felt wrong. Everything felt wrong. This whole thing was wrong. 

This...this was wrong. It wasn’t right. No...no...this wasn’t happening. This wasn’t what happened. Rhys couldn’t control his arm when he reached out a shaky flesh hand, fingers outstretched. His arm shook violently as emotions began to turmoil in his chest. He gently pressed the tips of his fingers along Jack’s cheek. To his horror, his masked skin burned cold. So very cold. He was freezing to the touch.

A shaky breath rattled Rhys’s lungs while he gazed down at the stone cold body of his partner. He wanted to be anywhere else at the moment, see anything else other than the lifeless corpse before him but he couldn’t gather the strength to tear his heavy gaze away. No matter how terribly his eyes burned or pooled with tears, he couldn’t wrench his hazy stare from the body on the cot. He couldn’t look away from Jack. Even through blurry vision. 

Rhys lost something. A hollow black void ripped through his chest. He felt as though a cold hand ripped open his ribcage and stole his organs. That same cold hand slammed into his chest with a hundred-pound iron weight. Or maybe it felt as though someone had point-blank fired through his torso with a shotgun. Instinctively, he took a step backwards in shock. He was hollow. Empty. Everything felt so empty. A freezing sensation coiled out from the heavy weight in his chest, sending a jolt of cold shivers through his body. 

The world spun under his feet and dizziness rushed up beneath Rhys as he blankly stared down into Jack’s lifeless expression. He couldn’t suppress his emotions fast enough. Grief wracked his body and he covered his mouth, violently flinching from silent sobs. A couple tears dribbled from his organic eye, dripping onto the cot. Rhys forced himself to breathe, watching his tears blossom into watery stains in the sheets. In. Out. A minute or two was all he needed to temporarily recover and compose himself. After all, Nakayama was still in the room. 

A terrible lump formed in Rhys’s throat, restricting his breathing. Rhys swiftly dabbed his eyes with a collared sleeve before finally dragging his gaze away from Jack’s bloodied corpse and up towards Nakayama. 

“What–” Rhys broke off as his voice came out in a strained croak. He coughed, clearing his throat as the hollow feeling in his chest wrenched wider. 

“What happened?” Rhys managed out, unable to control his trembling hands. Nakayama bowed his head. 

“In all honesty sir...I’m not certain–”

“How did he die?” Rhys interrupted, his voice suddenly quite steady. With a newfound rush of vulnerable emotions came anger and impatience. 

“I d–”

“I ask you a question. You answer. How did he die?” Rhys interjected coldly. Nakayama wiped his forehead with a handkerchief. 

“Well...it looks like someone punched out his heart. It looks like maybe a siren got to him...Take a look for yourself, sir,” Nakayama stared pointedly at the sheets pulled up around Jack’s neck. 

With a shaking hand, dread filled Rhys to the brim as his metal fingers curled around the edges of the cloth. Slowly peeling the sheets back, he didn’t have to go very far to get the confirmation to Nakayama’s answer. Jack’s bare chest underneath the sheet was nearly indiscernible.

Right in the center of his chest was a bloodied mess. A fist-sized wound was hole-punched directly through Jack’s ribcage, blood oozing into the sheets below. That was certain death. Dark crusted blood splattered across Jack’s cold skin all the way from his neck to torso. 

Lilith packed one hell of a punch. 

Rhys could bear to look no longer. He dropped the sheets with a heavy heart and gazed at Jack’s lifeless mask peeking out from the covers. Handsome Jack was dead. Rhys clenched his jaw, forcing a swallow. Hot tears prickled in the edges of his vision. 

_ Crying won’t bring him back.  _ Rhys thought furiously, fighting against the urge to punch himself out of his emotional state. He couldn’t keep the tears from falling. The crushing weight in his chest overpowered him. 

Utter grief spilled into Rhys’s mind as he drew a shaky breath, gazing down at Jack’s cold mask. His face portrayed an emotion that almost made him appear sleeping. He could almost be alive. Swallowing with much difficulty, Rhys reached out a hand to the sheets once more.  _ God...I–I’m so sorry Jack.  _ Rhys wanted to do him one last favor. The least Rhys could do was put his image to peaceful rest. 

He gathered the sheet in his metal fingers before Nakayama stepped forwards. 

“Don’t cover him yet. I still have to take off the mask–” as Nakayama’s hand moved towards one of Jack’s mask clasps there was a blur of movement as Rhys intercepted his hand, grasping the doctor’s his wrist in an ironlike fist. 

“Hey! Unhand m–”

Rhys’s expression darkened. He furrowed his eyebrows and gave Nakayama a harsh cutting glare. 

“The mask stays on,” he growled, releasing his grip and knocking Nakayama’s arm away. 

“He doesn’t want the mask taken off. You wouldn’t want to disrespect your hero now would you?” Rhys continued, his low tone nearing a growl. Nakayama took a step backwards, head dropping to observe the floor. He rubbed his wrist and nodded. 

“Yessir. The mask stays on.”

Rhys gave the doctor one last withering glare before glancing down at the sheets in his metal fist. Letting out a shaky breath he carefully pulled the bloodstained sheets up and gently lowered them over Jack’s mask, making sure he was fully shrouded in the ghostly sheet. Rhys watched Jack’s resting expression disappear beneath the cloth. 

That final expression of peace carved across his mask burned into Rhys’s mind. He blinked bitterly, tears blurring the edges of his vision once more. He tried to shoo the image away from his mind along with the accompanying terrible thoughts.

_ Jack’s at rest now. He’s at peace. You did your best, you served him well as a partner...and a friend. _

The sadness suddenly swelled and that choking void in Rhys’s chest widened, pushing up through his throat. Overcome by a sudden fit of coughing, heat blossomed behind his eyes as tears fell. Coughing slowly turned into choked sobs. Wiping a sleeve across his eyes, he bit back his grief and glanced at Nakayama who was respectfully silent and intently studying his shoes. 

“Excuse me,” Rhys grinned shakily, feeling as though he were about to crack. His emotions were building up behind a barrier of composure. Leaks from pressure were punching holes in his mental wall. 

Every step caused physical pain as he crossed the room, an overwhelming sense of newfound guilt pooled in his thoughts as he left Jack’s body behind. Rhys shouldn’t feel this way, he knew feeling guilty was pointless. But there was nothing he could do. He wrenched open the door, storming over the threshold and into the hallway, shoving the door closed behind him. He practically flew back down the hall towards the elevator. With every step he couldn’t feel anything. Everything was numb. Everything was wrong. 

As he stormed down the hallway, he was pulled from his numbing mind as something collided with his leg. 

He ignored the object, stalking past it without second thought.

“Rhys?” A small voice reached through his ringing ears. Rhys paused, blindly turning around, his mind in a grief-stricken haze barely able to process anything in real-time. Through his blurred vision he made out a child’s silhouette before him, eerily standing in the middle of the hallway. A familiar robot hovered just behind her. Rhys dragged his sleeve across his eyes in order to get a clearer look at the kid staring up at him. 

“Angel?” Her face swam before him. 

“Rhys? What’s going on? Everyone’s freakin’ out and no ones telling me why! Why are you crying?” Angel asked, throwing her hands up, face scrunched in confusion and concern. 

Rhys took one look down at her and almost collapsed into another fit of sobbing. Her cheekbones were too familiar, the resemblance was too uncanny–

“I...I have to go. I don’t have time,” Rhys echoed hollowly, dismissing Angel. Guilt spilled into his mind as he whirled around and punched the elevator button. 

“Hey wait!”

“I’m sorry,” Rhys murmured, stepping into the elevator and watching Angel disappear from sight as the doors snapped shut. He couldn’t face Jack’s daughter. What would he tell her? That Rhys failed to save Jack? That Rhys failed to save her father? This was all Rhys’s fault after all. Angel wouldn’t want to hear the news from him. 

Wiping his eyes, Rhys swallowed back his grief and straightened his shoulders. Inhaling a sharp breath he smoothed out his wrinkled sleeves and numbly patted his cheeks. He needed to compose himself while traversing Helios. He refused to allow himself to break down anywhere other than the safe private shelter of his apartment. He was Handsome Jack’s goddamn Personal Adviser after all. Rhys had to act like stony and professional, even in trying times. Weakness on Helios was dangerous to show.

Folding his hands behind his back, Rhys may have swallowed back his exterior emotions but his inner thoughts were an utter mess. As the first elevator arrived up onto R&D, he could feel his heartbeat thudding in his ears as his thoughts slowly spiraled out of control. 

He couldn’t remember the brisk walk back to his apartment. Everything flew past in a dull haze, hallways...people...bots... Rhys was numbly blind. He couldn’t make out the fuzzy outlines of people brushing past him and he couldn't even register the surroundings in front of him. He relied on muscle memory to find his way back home. Everything was blurry. One moment he was in an elevator and the next he materialized in front of his bedroom door. 

Practically falling into his bedroom, he stumbled inside, throwing off his vest and kicking the door shut with surprising angry strength. As the secure click of the door lock settled into place, the soft sound triggered something for Rhys. He realized he was safe here. 

He was...– 

Something between a wail and a choked sob escaped Rhys’s throat. His back hit the wall with a dull thump and he slid down the door, fingers clutching his hair. Head in hands, Rhys’s body succumbed to silent, violent grief-stricken sobs. He let the tears run freely, streaming down in a river, soaking his carpet in a damp puddle. 

Handsome Jack was dead. 

As Rhys’s silent shaking from hunched over, curling into a feeble ball on the floor, one of his grief-ridden racing thoughts surfaced more than others.

Fuck. This was all his fault. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Tim is actually my favorite borderlands character (tied for favorite with jack actually) he recently became a huge comfort character i draw him when I'm sad or need to vent and i love him to death he deserves the whole world and i have legitimately cried over seeing screenshots of him i am not exaggerating (when that new dlc came out i was ecstatic)
> 
> Unfortunately I started this fic before i played the pre sequel and before i knew more about tim so I didn't make him a serious character in this fic. 
> 
> I feel awful for killing him off...he deserves so much better than to be used as a plot device but...show must go on i guess :( (although I'm gonna headcanon my own fic and say he faked his death and the raiders helped him out of the jack contract :])


	30. Part 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These next few chapters are lengthy so...there's gonna b a few extra days in between updates

Rhys refused to leave his room or step anywhere near the door. His room was the only safe place he had. It was the only place he could tread without feeling an overwhelming sense of guilt and shame. Guilty because he didn’t try hard enough to stop Jack. Shame because he couldn’t stop Jack. After all, was Rhys’s fault Handsome Jack’s corpse was lying cold down in Helios’s sub-levels. Rhys couldn’t face anyone at the moment. He couldn’t even face himself.

The overwhelming slew of sadness and grief wasn’t even the worst aspect of all this. The most horrible feeling was the gaping empty hole in his chest. Often he found the void’s choking presence leaping up his throat or causing a crushing sensation which made it difficult to breath. What _ was _ the crushing blackness of despair anyways? 

Numbness. The hollow void ripping through his chest was numbness. The numbness ebbing through his body was the worst of all. He could barely feel anything, emotional or physical. He felt quite literally nothing. He was all empty. Hollow. 

Vaughn returned home late that night. Hearing Rhys’s distress he knocked on the door and tried the handle, persistently asking Rhys if he was alright. Rhys couldn’t deal with Vaughn right now. He couldn’t bear the thought of facing another living being on this damned space station after all he’d done. God, he wanted Vaughn to leave. To just leave Rhys alone to rot in his own storm of grief-stricken thoughts. Vaughn eventually gave up trying to get through to Rhys and complied with Rhys’s muffled, distressed request to, 

“Leave me the hell alone!”

Rhys didn’t deserve to see Vaughn again. He didn’t deserve to see anyone again. See...if he couldn’t save Jack, what would happen if he couldn’t save anyone else? 

He curled up on the hard floor for what seemed like hours. Eventually, he mustered the strength to drag himself into bed, numbed body unusually heavy. Great effort was required to stand and stumble a couple of feet. He couldn’t even gather the strength to detach his arm for the night. Burying his head in the sheets, he exhaled, feeling his numbness ebb and flow. He didn’t want to deal with all this. He couldn’t handle himself or his scattered mind anymore. He just wanted to rest. To completely shut off his mind and welcome a dark thoughtless sleep. He didn’t want to carry the burden of his stupid thoughts anymore. 

He manually forced the cybernetics in his head to power down. Feeling his subsystems fade into stillness, he was greeted with an unfamiliar cold silence. Losing the faint humming of machinery in the back of his mind, Rhys fell into a bleak, silent dreamless sleep. 

\---------

To Rhys’s disappointment, when he roused the following morning nothing about his situation had changed. Pushing the covers aside with a groan, he dragged himself out of bed as the familiar numbness of the world came crashing down over his head. Feeling the peculiar jittery sensation of his inner systems fire back up with a familiar hum, Rhys bleakly moved about his room. He barely remembered pulling a clean shirt over his head and getting dressed. His mind was simply a dull blank slate. 

He glared at his disheveled reflection in the mirror by his closet. 

_ The reflection that ended up killing a man! _

_ Shut up, inner Rhys! _

Thanks inner Rhys, for stating the obvious. Rhys rubbed his forehead furiously. He’d been too weak to stop Jack. He hadn’t tried hard enough to save Jack from himself. Studying his body in the mirror with a hooded gaze, Rhys felt a newfound sense of disgust. 

His hair was completely disheveled. The whites of his eyes were tainted with a slight pink. His tears had all dried up, making it impossible to let the waterworks flow any longer. It seemed throwing himself to the ground in a fit of crying was no longer in the question. His eyes had sunk into his skull, accompanied by large puffy eye bags, bright red and irritated. Damn, crying while fast sleep really took a toll on morning beauty eh?

He looked like shit. 

Rhys tried to let his grievance rest. He turned away from his reflection and moved towards the bedroom door. Resting a flesh hand on the knob, he paused, thoughts flying through his head.

Did he really want to do this? Did he really want to leave the safety of his bedroom? He’d have to face Vaughn. Rhys deeply desired not to see anyone at the moment. No, he wasn’t ready. 

He withdrew his hand from the doorknob he instead turned towards his desk. 

Maybe he should try working. Working always did wonders for his mind. If he just...if he just worked, maybe he could push all this aside and check out of the world. Gingerly plopping down in his chair, Rhys gazed at the layout splayed before him. Several papers were scattered across his desk’s surface. Tracing his fingers over the white lines of a project, he plucked the document from the table, studying his work in progress under better light. This sheet of paper was one of his personal endeavors, an unofficial blueprint he simply worked on for pleasure. 

Holding a white-inked pen in shaky metal fingers, Rhys jotted down a few measurement notes squinting at the paper under his pen. Yeah...this would _ have _ to do the trick. Working on this paper would _ have _ take his mind off everything. It simply _ had _to. Because if working couldn’t ease his troubled mind for even a mere few minutes...there’d be nothing that could. 

Rhys tried to work. He made several heroic attempts to focus. He really did. Each time he touched the pen to paper his shaking fingers and uncharacteristically trembly lines were impossible to ignore.

After about twenty minutes of unproductive work, Rhys cursed and threw down his pen in a fit of irritation. An overwhelming emotion of frustration and sadness welled up from his stomach and he resisted the nauseating urge to vomit. His cheeks stung as he fought back a fresh wave of tears. He couldn’t...he couldn’t keep going. Wringing his head in his hands, he pulled at his hair and banged his head on the desk. 

_ Just. Stop. _ ** _Thinking. _ ** _ Just _ ** _stop. _ ** _ Just. Stop. Just. Stop. Just. Stop. Just. Stop. _ ** _THINKING. _ ** _ I can’t _ ** _think _ ** _ anymore. Just shut up. Stop thinking. Let this rest. Let rest. I'm tired of thinking. _

He felt dry sobs wrack his body and he struggled to compose himself, dragging a sleeve across his eyes and sitting upright. With a final heave he shoved his chair away from the desk and forced himself to stand. 

_ Stop, please. Stop thinking. I don’t want to feel anymore. Grieving won’t help anyone. It won’t help me and it certainly wouldn’t help Jack. _Rhys thought bitterly. He tried to convince himself Jack wouldn’t want this–Of course Jack wouldn’t want this for him. 

But that didn’t matter did it? Dead men couldn’t speak. 

Rhys had to get out of this room. This closed space was taunting him, screwing with his head. He was only hurting himself, trapping himself here. He had to get out. The quietness of his bedroom was overpowering and his thoughts ran loud enough to hatch a splitting headache. Rhys stormed across the bedroom and seized the doorknob with rather forceful determination. He’d just twisted the metal handle when a loud, startling buzz rang out behind him. Rhys whirled around to find his ECHOpad vibrating on the headboard of his bed. 

God, Rhys had zero energy or patience to speak with anyone right now but curiosity got the best of him. Picking up the device, he turned the screen over to read the incoming message. 

He was greeted with the cold light of a yellow notification. He hadn’t received a message from a friend, he’d been issued a company-wide announcement. 

_ Hyperion’s present CEO, Handsome Jack is dead. He will live on through our hearts. While further details are pending, Hyperion will remain strong as ever. For Hyperion _.

Rhys’s fingers trembled as he stared unblinking into the yellow light. Those same four words kept spinning around in his head, over and over. 

_ Handsome Jack is dead. Handsome Jack is dead. Handsome Jack is dead. Handsome Jack is– _

With a strangled cry Rhys whipped the stupid thing at the floor. The ECHOpad bounced off the carpet and landed a couple feet away. Wringing his head in his hands, Rhys squeezed his eyes shut. He couldn’t even cry. He didn’t deserve to cry, at least not for Jack. I mean–Rhys was amazing, a total genius, really. He didn’t even think to reciprocate those three precious words of “I love you”.

Rhys didn’t want to feel anymore. He didn’t want to feel any of this. This emptiness, this numbness. He could almost hear the ghostly ring of Jack’s raucous laugh. 

_ Stop being such a drama queen, Rhysie. _

Rhys could hear the dead echo of Jack’s taunting voice in his ear; could feel the faint ghostly fingers of Jack’s hands brushing his cheekbone. Collapsing onto the bed, he tightly curled into a ball and slammed his hands over his ears. Drowning in helplessness, he tried block out his stupid memories and the stupid whispers that followed. Rhys didn’t want to hear any of this anymore. He just wanted all this to be over. 

A sudden knock at the door jolted him from his trance.

“Rhys? Hello? Are you okay, bro?” Vaughn’s concerned tone was slightly muffled by the door as he stood outside the bedroom. Rhys’s jaw remained glued shut. He couldn’t muster the will to speak. 

“This is–I uh...I saw the announcement about...Handsome Jack,” Vaughn continued cautiously. Rhys let out a groan and clamped his hands over his ears even tighter. He didn’t want to hear it from Vaughn. And he most definitely did not want to talk about it. 

“Is this...because of that? Are you okay? You’ve haven’t come out of there in...a while. I’m concerned about you.”

Rhys refused to open his mouth. 

“Rhys, man, if you don’t answer me I’ll have to come in. Are you alright? Do you...want to talk?”

Opening his eyes, Rhys rolled over to face the bare wall, glaring at the paint blankly. He just wanted to be alone. Being alone was the only good thing he could do. He didn’t want to talk, he wanted to disappear. Disappearing off the face of the galaxy was looking particularly enticing today. Disappearing would be easiest. For everyone. 

“Hey! Open the door,” Vaughn insisted with another knock, stubborn and concerned for the well-being of this roommate. 

“Rhys, if you don’t open this door in five seconds, I’m breaking and entering and you aren’t allowed to get mad at me,” Vaughn announced, pounding on the door with a fist. 

Still, Rhys ignored him. He ignored everything. He didn’t care. Not anymore. 

“I'm counting down. When I hit one I'm coming in. Just in case you don’t remember, I’ve done that self-defense program here on Helios. For some reason that program included how to break down a door–Not sure why, but–Hey! Now it’s helpful,” Rhys heard Vaughn warn from outside the door. There was an audible shift of feet.

“Alright! Five...four...three...two...–”

Rhys let out a loud, exasperated groan and rolled out of bed, staggering to the bedroom door. He wrenched it open just in time. Rhys glared irritably down at the relief in Vaughn’s expression. Vaughn’s relief quickly flashed to concern. 

“Jesus, dude, you do not look well. Are you alright?”

Rhys almost debated slamming the door in his face. But instead he forced himself to step over his bedroom threshold. Wordlessly shoving past Vaughn, stormed to the kitchen counter and furiously planted himself on a stool. Vaughn cautiously followed in Rhys’s irritable wake. Rhys sighed and draped over the kitchen counter, burying his face in his 

“Hey–Here. Eat this,” Vaughn offered, pushing a bagel towards Rhys. Rhys raised his head and silently accepted Vaughn’s kind gesture. The bagel tasted very dry. Much drier than usual. Rhys could barely bring himself to swallow. Pulling up a chair across from Rhys, Vaughn gazed at him worriedly. 

“How are you feeling?”

“Shit,” Rhys croaked, dropping the uneaten half of his bagel onto his plate. Vaughn sucked in a quiet breath. 

“Hey man...I’m...sorry about what happened to...your boss–” he began, clearly treading carefully. 

“He has a name you know,” Rhys countered sharply. His irritability had risen by thrice the height quite literally overnight. 

“Handsome Jack,” Vaughn corrected himself. 

“I have no idea what happened but...you’re not well...and...frankly I didn’t realize how much you liked working for him,” Vaughn continued. Rhys remained uncomfortably silent. There was nothing for him to say.

“So...man? Do you...do you want to talk about it...or?”

Rhys suddenly stiffened, banging a metal fist on the counter, causing a commotion and startling Vaughn off his chair. 

“It’s my fault Jack’s dead,” he proclaimed loudly, his tone radiating anger. Rhys’s fury wasn't aimed at Vaughn, his fury was aimed at himself. He smacked his forehead with a flesh palm and growled, struggling to keep back another wave of tears. Vaughn re-positioned himself back on the stool.

“–Woah, woah! Rhys, I–no! It’s not your fault Handsome Jack’s dead, what? He’s the CEO! He probably had loads of bounties and political assassins on his head, it can’t be y–”

“–is that what they’re telling you?” Rhys interjected, raising his head.

“It was a political assassination?”

“Yeah...that’s the Helios ECHOnet rumor,” Vaughn confirmed with a wince. He then raised an eyebrow. 

“So...if that’s not it...what happened?”

Rhys gave a dry, hollow laugh. He clenched his metal fingers. 

“Jack died ‘cause I was too weak to stop him from going down to Pandora and getting murdered by a bunch of friggin’ bandits an an ambush” he growled. 

“Rhys–that’s not your fault. He’s–He _ was _ Handsome Jack! He the CEO–he never listened to anybody! Don’t be hard on yourself. Nobody knows what went on in his mind, he...he was unpredictable.”

“You’re wrong,” Rhys muttered furiously. 

“I knew _ exactly _ what was going on in his head. I know how he acts. I was the only person alive in this goddamn galaxy that could have stopped him–”

“No, stop. You’re guilt-tripping yourself. Nobody has ever been ab–”

“YEAH? AND NOBODY KNEW HIM LIKE I DID!” Rhys burst out, fists clenched angrily. He then covered his mouth with his hand and shook his head. 

“Sorry, sorry, I didn’t mean to yell,” he apologized hurriedly. Vaughn was stunned for a moment. Vaughn blinked slowly, registering Rhys’s outburst and trying to find appropriate next words.

“It’s okay. And...You were just his PA. Rhys, you aren’t expected to know everything about h–”

“–Has it ever crossed your mind that maybe I wasn’t just his PA?” Rhys interjected, glaring quite furiously at table surface under his metal fingertips. Rhys refused to look up and meet Vaughn’s eye. 

Vaughn sat back on his stool, processing Rhys’s words with a questioning expression. 

“What do you mean? You were his personal assistant, then personal adviser. Well even as personal adviser you aren’t–”

“I’m not talking about corporate titles,” Rhys interrupted, his voice cold. 

“Then what–”

“We were together.”

“Well yeah you were always together. I mean, you were his PA–”

“Vaughn, PLEASE, just LISTEN TO ME,” Rhys’s outburst echoed around the apartment. He rubbed the bridge of his nose. 

“We were partners. Dating. Boyfriends. Whatever the fuck you wanna call it,” Rhys hissed, gaze snapping back down to intently study the table before him. 

“He was your–You–I–You and Handsome Jack–Handsome Jack was your _ boyfriend _? All this time? Oh my g–Wait but I thought you said–”

“Not the whole time. It was a recent development,” Rhys corrected, a cold numbness settling in his bones. Great. The first time he told his best friend in the whole world Handsome Jack was his boyfriend, Handsome Jack was fucking dead. Fantastic. 

“You’re telling me you were–you–you and Handsome Jack–I–Rhys how did you even…” Vaughn gazed at Rhys with wide eyes, stammering with a loss for words. 

“Yeah not sure how that happened either. I would say to just ask Jack how it happened but he’s dead,” Rhys snapped. The hollow void in his chest tugged wider. 

“Rhys–shit...I...oh god...I’m so sorry,” Vaughn’s voice quelled. He projected a ton of unintentional pity. Rhys hated it. 

“Well he’s dead now anyways so it doesn’t matter,” Rhys growled dryly, flexing his flesh fingers. Vaughn pushed up his glasses. 

“I didn’t realize how badly–…are you…holding up okay?”

“Take a wild guess,” Rhys muttered, glaring at the counter under his fist, suddenly feeling a cold shift in his own demeanor. He neatly bottled up the last of his emotions and shoved them away.

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” he glanced up and met Vaughn’s gaze squarely. 

“What’s done is done. Handsome Jack is dead. There’s nothing anyone can do, I should forget about it.”

Rhys’s voice was gravely cold. He swallowed back a lump in his throat. The crushing blackness in his chest pulsed with every heartbeat. 

“Any news on who’s in charge of Hyperion now?” Rhys asked, changing topics. Vaughn shifted uncomfortably under Rhys’s newfoundly cold gaze. His roommate's sudden shift in emotions was uncanny.

“...Yeah...actually. There’s someone already up and running.”

“Seriously? Someone seized control _ overnight? _” Rhys asked incredulously. 

“Well...not overnight. Rhys...have you checked the time recently? It’s three o’ clock in the afternoon, you slept in _ really _late. A lot of stuff’s been happening. Early this morning...the executives were informed of Handsome Jack’s death…and that’s when rumors started on the ECHOnet and stuff...someone decided to take action…” Vaughn began. Rhys frowned.

“What action? Who?”

“You’re not going to like it.”

“Tell me!”

Vaughn sucked in a breath, casting a nervous glance at Rhys’s irate expression. 

“Hugo Vasquez may have...er..._ permanently _displaced a few other top executives and...er...he may have decided to make himself...CEO...” he teetered out. 

“Oh for the LOVE OF–” Rhys slammed his flesh hand on the counter in a fit of both exasperation and rage. 

“How is that even _ possible? _Say sike. Say sike right now.”

“Bro, I’m sorry, I–”

Rhys let out a loud groan and banged his head on the counter. 

“Why? Why him? It literally could have been anyone else in the company but him. _ Anyone. _Jesus,” Rhys muttered furiously, straightening back up. He rubbed the bridge of his nose. 

“That slimy fucker. I thought he was done messing with me for good! What in the goddamn–ARGH–I thought he wouldn’t be a problem anymore!” Rhys burst out, metal fingers digging furiously into the kitchen counter. Vaughn scratched his head. 

“Me too honestly, I’d kinda forgotten about him,” he chimed in. Rhys cracked his knuckles, anger filling him like a hot balloon. Vasquez didn’t get to take the big chair. Not while Rhys was alive at least. By corporate standards, Rhys was fairly sure Personal Adviser was legally the next step down, which would make Rhys Jack’s ‘successor’. Not by corporate standards, Rhys was itching to kick Vasquez’s shit in for good measure. 

Rhys slid off the stool and bounced onto his feet, a newfound energy rolling in his heels. 

“Do you know where he is?” He asked Vaughn brightly, a scary uplift suddenly crossing his demeanor. Vaughn frowned at Rhys’s sudden enthusiasm.

“I think he was last seen...in Handsome Jack’s office,” Vaughn answered gingerly. A flash of hot anger cut through Rhys. Jack’s office, eh? The spitting image of Vasquez’s smug weaselly grin lounged in Jack’s chair flashed through his mind. Rhys pushed that smarmy image away. Hell no. That wouldn’t be happening. Not unless Rhys had something to say about it. Vasquez in that goddamn chair would be an insult to Jack’s memory. 

Fury coursing through his veins, Rhys stormed off into his bedroom and retrieved both his pistol along with the extra grenades Jack gave him from their last Pandora excursion, just for good measure. Rhys always knew those would come in handy someday. Stuffing a grenade in his pocket and resting his pistol against his shoulder, Rhys stomped through the kitchen, towards the door, an angry heat rising through through his body. How _ dare _ Vasquez take that goddamn chair. How dare he tarnish Jack’s memory like this. 

Rhys’s blood boiled. 

“Where are you going?” Vaughn called, cautiously stepping after him. Rhys whirled around, shoulders bristling with fury. His mouth shifted into an uncanny grin. 

“I’m going to kill the fucker once and for all,” he growled, a red haze settling over the edges of his vision. Rhys was mad mad. Top of the notch furious. No one was gonna stand in the way of his murderous rage. 

“Wait! Dude, no! He’ll kill you! He’s already got personal loader bots and everything! Hey, I hate it too but he’s Hyperion’s CEO now!”

“Yeah? And I’m Rhys goddamn Strongfork. He’s not the goddamn CEO ‘til I’m dead,” Rhys spat, wrenching open the apartment door. The door slammed behind him as took off in a furious storm down the hallway. In the elevators employees edged away from him, sensing the hot rage rolling off his shoulders and warily eyeing the pistol in his grip. Rhys paid them no mind and instead fixated his heated gaze dead ahead, fantasising about which direction the bullet would enter Vasquez’s skull. 

Arriving at the twenty-second floor, Rhys stepped off the elevator with one furious image playing over and over inside his vivid imagination. Vasquez’s lifeless hitting the floor with a dull thud. Blood pooling out of his forehead.

A cold grimace spread across Rhys’s features. Now was the time. 

This was all rather ironic, really. Rhys spared Vasquez from Jack’s assassination offers countless times in the past. But not this time. Vasquez was no longer safe, he wouldn’t be protected from any sort of Rhys’s morals like he’d been in the past. There was no sparing Vasquez’s life this time. 

To a twinge of Rhys’s surprise, when he paused in front of the sliding door to Jack’s office, the first door opened without query. Rhys shrugged, strolling into the connector.

“Meg. What’s going on?” Rhys asked. She straightened up at his appearance. Both worry and relief flickered across her features. 

“Well...after...uhm...you know… Jack’s…passing...there was a quick change in management. Mr. Vasquez is CEO now,” she explained, tapping her fingertips together. 

“I know that,” Rhys growled, fingering his pistol irritably. Meg glanced between the gun in his hand and his blackened furious expression. She made the connection almost immediately. 

“You’re gonna kill him aren’t you?”

Rhys nodded. Meg shrugged and leaned back in her chair. 

“Well I’m not gonna argue with that. You are technically supposed to be Jack’s successor. Besides, personally I don’t really like this new Vasquez guy. He gives off some...gross vibes,” she sighed and shook her head, rubbing the bridge of her nose in exasperation. 

“Aaaand here I go endorsing murder. I’ve only known this Vasquez guy for a day and I’m already encouraging you to kill him.”

Rhys grinned. 

“Yeah, well me and him have a history. He’s always been a massive bitch. It’s gonna be great when I get a bullet in his head.”

Meg’s gaze suddenly flickered to a dash of sadness. 

“Has anyone told you that you sound like Jack?” 

Rhys’s grin faded. He clenched his jaw, feeling that crushing grief in his chest return. 

“I’m not Jack. Jack’s dead. The quicker everyone moves on, the better off it will be,” he growled roughly. Each time someone mentioned Jack, Rhys was filled with an overwhelmingly numb wave of grief, sadness and fury. He just wanted all the stupid emotions and baggage that came with Jack’s death quit berating him. Jack was dead. Rhys had to get over it and stop moping around like a friggin’ drama queen. 

Meg blinked in surprise at his irate retort. 

“You...certainly aren’t. Alright, I’ll let you in. Oh and heads up, I overhead Vasquez talking about how he wanted to see you, so he’s probably prepared. Be careful,” Meg advised sincerely, finger hovering over the secondary door button. 

“Seriously. Don’t fucking die. I don’t want to have to work for that weirdo the rest of my life,” Meg pointed a finger at Rhys. Rhys nodded. 

“I’ll be in an out in a heartbeat,” he assured her. Meg sighed. 

“You’d better.”

She pressed the button and opened the inner doors to Jack’s office. As Rhys cast her one last grin before stepping inside Jack’s office. As he crossed the threshold, the doors slammed shut behind him. Straightening his tie, Rhys glanced around the room. Jack’s office was identical to the last time he’d been here but this time, something in the room felt unbalanced. The whole vibe was wrong. Without Jack present, the office didn’t feel like...the office. A pang of sadness passed through Rhys. 

Hearing a conversation, Rhys’s gaze was brought up to Jack’s desk. Vasquez was perched stiffly in the chair, appearing much more neatly groomed than usual. Quite honestly the motherfucker looked like he had a genuine stick up his ass. The thought greatly amused Rhys.

A translucent holographic screen was propped up in front of Vasquez. He appeared to be in conversation with someone on the other end of the video call. 

Upon seeing Rhys’s entry, Vasquez’s features lifted as a wicked sort of light flashed across his eyes. He held up a finger to the person on call. 

“One moment please, I have company,” he explained. Rhys was silent, fingers clenching the pistol in his grip so tightly his knuckles whitened. He wasn’t sure what to say.

“Ah, hey Rhys! My man! I was hoping you’d turn up!” Vasquez beamed, spreading his hands. 

“Here I am,” Rhys replied dryly. 

“Who is that?” The woman’s voice on the other end of the holographic call gruffly piped up. She sounded extremely familiar, yet Rhys couldn’t quite place the origin of her familiarity. Vasquez waved a loose, dismissive hand. 

“Oh nobody important, just Handsome Jack’s ex-personal assistant!” 

“Personal adviser,” Rhys corrected. Vasquez blatantly ignored him.

“Turn me around,” the woman on the other end of the line demanded. Vasquez’s hand flicked across the hologram, the screen spinning around so the person on the other end of the call could face Rhys. Rhys suppressed a start of surprise as he took in the swooped fiery hair, gleaming golden eyes–

Recognition flickered across the Firehawk’s features as she laid her fiery eyes on Rhys. 

“You! I know you! You were there that day at the eridium site!” She exclaimed, almost angrily.

Hot fury doused Rhys in a haze of rage. 

“It’s _ you. _You’re the siren bitch who killed Jack, huh? I’ll be sure to pay another visit to Pandora to give you and your goddamn Raiders a surprise,” Rhys snarled, raising his pistol at the holographic screen. His flesh hand shook with rage. How dare she. How dare she still live? The images of Tim’s decapitated body and Jack’s cold, bloodied mask filtered through his mind. All because of her. Lilith. The stupid, fucking, pathetic siren. 

The morose post-mortem images in Rhys’s mind were quickly replaced with images of Lilith’s body lying dead on the flagstones, Rhys’s metal hand around her throat. As soon as Rhys was finished taking care of Vasquez, he’d come for her next. He’d wrap his metal fingers around her windpipe and choke her–wait...wait...that wasn’t right. Shit, what was that saying Jack always used? Oh, right! This wasn’t choking, it was strangling. Rhys was going to strangle the life out of her by his own hand. 

His flesh hand trembled and he pulled the trigger. A bullet whistled through Lilith’s holographic face and just barely missed the big yellow chair Vasquez seated himself on. Pity, really. 

“Woah woah! That’s enough! I don’t want violence!” Vasquez exclaimed, quickly cutting off the ECHOcall with Lilith. In a flash Rhys had the gun pulled on Vasquez. Vasquez quickly raised his hands in surrender. 

“Hey now, let’s not get too hasty here, Rhys, pal. I’d watch yourself if I were you,” a stern expression flickered across his features. The sound of clanking metal and a low robotic hum reached Rhys’s ears and he whirled around coming face to face with two clunking loader bots. They’d concealed themselves in the wall unbeknownst to Rhys and had been awaiting Vasquez’s command. 

The yellow machines towered over Rhys, their bright red glaring eye fixated on his frail form in a threatening stare. But for some reason, the bots were unable to intimidate the smaller man before them. 

“Lower your weapon and surrender immediately,” a low robotic voice emanated from the bot on the left. Frustration stabbed through Rhys’s mind. Why did Vasquez have to make things so goddamn complicated? This was supposed to be a quick murder–get in–shoot Vasquez–get out. 

Rhys reluctantly lowered his weapon and holstered the pistol back to his belt. Vasquez heaved a dramatic sigh. 

“Thank you, so much.”

Rhys didn’t bother to give a response. He was too busy trying to formulate a new scenario in his mind where he was able to kill Vasquez and not get immediately shot by loader bots the instant he stepped forwards. 

“I wanted you to come see me, I was hoping you’d turn up,” Vasquez continued. 

“Why are you working with bandit scum?” Rhys interjected, turning his harsh glare on Vasquez. The man in the chair seemed miffed by Rhys’s interruption but answered nonetheless. 

“Bandit scum? No, she’s a kickass siren. About a year or two ago she intercepted me on Pandora when I paid a visit to one of the factories down there. She offered me half of Hyperion’s wealth if I was...able to give her information that would help her take it down. And let me tell you...half of Hyperion is a very handsome amount of cash. All that money would really benefit me, so I agreed,” Vasquez shrugged before leaning forwards. 

“I mean...we’re not so different, you and I. We’re just in it for the money,” Vasquez raised an eyebrow and offered a Rhys a slight grin. Rage boiled in Rhys’s blood and he felt the temperature in the room rise several degrees. How dare Vasquez suggest–Rhys flexed his fingers and clenched his jaw. 

“That’s where you’re wrong. We’re very different. Unlike you, my position in this company actually means something, dickwad. You’re just some expendable engineer. You could have been killed at any time and–” Rhys paused, shaking his head and waving a hand. 

“–no one would have noticed. Nobody would even care,” he finished, a wicked mock in his tone. Rhys’s expression switched back to business. A wide grin flashed across his features. 

“You’re nothing, no one. Not to Handsome Jack, not to me. You’re just some nobody trying to be somebody,” he finished. There was a harsh irony in Rhys’s words. 

“Woah,” Vasquez blinked, eyes wide. 

“That actually kinda hurt. I thought we were friends,” he somehow achieved a relatively accurate note of betrayal. 

“Play it cool all you want, Vaz, you know I’m right,” Rhys smiled coldly. Vasquez sighed, swinging out of the chair to his feet. 

“I was going to give you a promotion, you know…” he trailed off sadly. Rhys scoffed. 

“Promotion to what? Head janitor?”

Vasquez blinked in surprise. 

“How did you know? Wait–nevermind. Don’t tell me. It doesn’t matter. I had a change of heart. I’ll just kill you instead,” Vasquez waved a casual hand. Rhys tensed, his internal panic beginning to rise. Vasquez wanting to kill him wasn’t a huge surprise but it did throw a wrench into Rhys’s plans. Rhys’s original plan was to kill Vasquez quickly and quietly. Now that method seemed to be no longer in order. 

Rhys warily side-eyed the loping bots flanking him. Was Vasquez about to sic the loader bots on him? How would Rhys get out of that one? Maintaining a cool composure, Rhys was silent, and simply observed Vasquez hop down the steps from Jack’s desk. 

“Actually, you’re still useful to me, at least for a little while longer,” Vasquez proclaimed, stopping short of Rhys. 

“The only thing that I don’t have access to is the penthouse up there. For some reason I can’t get the elevator doors open,” Vasquez explained, scratching a hand through his well-combed hair. Rhys held his deepest scowl. 

“And what makes you think I can get the doors open?”

“You and Handsome Jack had a...close sorta relationship, didn’t you? Frankly I’d be surprised if you didn’t have access to the penthouse!” Vasquez gave a hearty chuckle. Rhys crossed his arms and swayed his weight to one leg.

“Even if I knew how to get up to the penthouse, I wouldn’t tell the likes of you,” he raised a cool eyebrow. Vasquez sighed. 

“Rhys, my man…” he stepped forwards, laying a hand on Rhys’s shoulder. Rhys stiffened under Vasquez’s finger nails digging into his arm .

“Come on! It’s just a simple request! I might even consider letting you live if you do this one little task for me!” 

Rhys remained stubbornly silent. He bathed Vasquez in his coldest, sharpest regard. Noticing his unwavering will, Vasquez shook his head in disappointment and sighed. Vasquez’s hand retracted from Rhys’s shoulder and came to rest just below his hip. Rhys noticed his fingers coming to rest just above a small, glowing, rectangular prism. A shield. Vasquez was wearing a shield. 

_ Shit. I definitely won’t be able to one-shot him now, _ Rhys thought, flexing his jaw. How on earth was he going to take Vasquez out now? Well...what did Rhys have to do the job? Two grenades and a pistol. The grenades were probably his next best bet.

“Alright. Since you want to be so _ difficult, _I’ll have to use force to get you to talk. Loader bots! Shoot him! But don’t kill him, just make him hurt.”

The creak off loader bot joints animating behind Rhys finally registered as a threat. 

“Wait! Wait! Fine, I’ll tell you,” Rhys insisted, raising his hands in surrender. A grin lit up Vasquez’s features. 

“Glad you came around! LB’s, stand down.” 

Rhys had no desire to give Vasquez access to the penthouse, but Rhys had no choice. Besides, the seeds of a plan had slowly sprouted in his mind.

A glancing grenade blast wouldn’t be enough to kill Vasquez, his shield would absorb the impact. However, if Rhys could hit Vasquez with a _ direct _ blast...there was no way any shield could survive that. Now, how would he catch Vasquez in a direct blast? Rhys’s thoughts guided him towards the elevator. If Vasquez entered the elevator and Rhys was fast enough, he could chuck a grenade in there with him. Then, if Rhys could get AGIS to close the doors just in the nick of time...maybe...maybe Vasquez would be blown to pieces trapped in the elevator with a live grenade.

The plan was by no means concrete, but it was the only one Rhys had at the moment. After all, a scattered plan was better than no plan. 

“Alright! Show me how to get up to the penthouse,” Vasquez ordered, a sparkle in his eyes and delight in his tone. Rhys shot him a dirty look before striding forwards. 

“Ah-ta-ta. Where are you going?”

“The elevator,” Rhys growled, pushing past Vasquez. He halted in front of the doors, Vasquez just a few steps behind him, peering cautiously. Rhys sighed.

“AGIS, could you let us up please?"

“Yeah,” the AI gave a short reply. As the doors slid open, Rhys turned to Vasquez and gestured with an open palm.

"There you go. All yours,” he said tonelessly. Vasquez shook his head. 

“No–no. Ladies first, after you!”

Rhys inwardly cursed, grinding his teeth. Rhys in the elevator wasn’t part of the plan. But whatever. Rhys would figure something out. 

Stepping into the elevator, Rhys turned, arms folded in front of him. Vasquez followed suit, coming to a halt directly beside Rhys. Rhys kept his gaze straight ahead as the elevator doors closed. As he felt the floor lift, he could hear Vasquez breath beside him. 

“This is so cool, isn't it? I’m CEO now, I even get Handsome Jack’s penthouse!”

_ Like hell you are. _Rhys thought furiously. He remained dead silent as the doors re-opened and presented a view of the penthouse living room. Quickly exiting the elevator and stepping over the threshold into the living room, Rhys’s mind raced. Now both he and Vasquez were in the penthouse. How could Rhys off Vasquez? How could he use his surroundings to his advantage? Rhys felt his pulse quicken as panic rose inside him and he'd just–

“Unauthorized persons detected. Defense turrets activated.”

Rhys whipped around at AGIS’s mechanical voice and watched triumphantly as Vasquez stumbled back into the elevator, hands up. 

“Woah! Woah! Hey! Calm down! Rhys you asshole, you didn’t mention the defense system! I thought we were friends!”

AGIS was like a savior sent from above. Rhys had a sudden lightbulb moment. The idea struck him right through the noggin. The remaining pieces of the puzzle slid into place. Rhys struggled to hide his conniving grin. Oh yeah, it was all coming together. He watched as AGIS unloaded turrets from the wall, machinery unfolding like origami. 

“Oh no!” Rhys exclaimed. 

“I forgot to shut it off. There’s a switch in the kitchen, give me a moment!” He waved at Vasquez who was now stuck in the elevator with two massive turrets aimed at the threshold, waiting for him to take a wrong step into the penthouse. 

The switch in the kitchen was nonexistent. That was an excuse to slip out of sight for the five seconds Rhys needed in order to execute his plan smoothly. Quickly jogging into the kitchen, Rhys rounded the corner and darted out of view. He took a deep exhale, wiping the anxious sweat from his brow. Phew. Now all he needed was a good throw and flawless aim. He glanced at his cybernetic arm. A wide grin spread across his expression. Oh, this was just perfect. 

Quickly digging grenade from his pocket, Rhys held the explosive up to the light. Wonderful. Examining his bomb with the ECHOeye, he discovered he had about...nine seconds after the pin was pulled before the big explosion. He took a deep breath, switching the grenade over to his metal fingers. Well...this was all or nothing, eh? 

Jumping out from behind the wall, Rhys crossed the kitchen threshold into the kitchen just as he yanked the pin from it’s slot. Tossing the spindly pin aside, the grenade began to vibrate. Winding up his arm, Rhys grinned, flexing his metal shoulder. 

“Hey! Look, I found the switch!” 

The metal arm took care of its job flawlessly. Rhys whipped the grenade with deadly force all the way across the room. He watched with satisfaction as his throw slammed the grenade into back corner of the elevator. 

There was a strangled cry from Vasquez, who whipped out his own gun, and aimed the barrel at Rhys’s blurred form across the room. 

“AGIS CLOSE THE DOORS!” Rhys bellowed, stumbling forwards with the follow-through of his spectacular throw. The crack of a bullet reached Rhys’s ears just as the elevator doors slammed shut. He stumbled back as something slammed into his gut with all the force of a well-packed punch. His gaze whipped down as a stinging pain flared up in his torso. He grunted, expecting to see a crimson stain blossoming from his clothes but instead he found his rumpled clothing sparkling clean. No bullet in his guts. 

_ Ah. Forgot I was wearing my shield. _Rhys observed dumbly. 

“Heh,” he remarked, worries fading. The shield was really handy, huh? Nearly forgetting about Vasquez, his gaze snapped up and he eyed the elevator just in time before–

** _BOOM_ **

Rhys winced, flinching at the series of roaring explosions inside the elevator. The room shook and he watched the elevator doors shudder so violently he feared they’d fly off their track. Cowering behind the safety of the couch, Rhys peaked around the edge of the furniture. The floor shuddering eventually ceased and Rhys watched as the vibrating doors re-opened with a pleasant ding. 

_ Yeah, there’s no way Vasquez would be able to survive that. _

Dashing over to the open elevator, Rhys was eager to observe the outcome from his grenade. He wanted to make sure Vasquez was dead, for good. 

In hindsight, Rhys regretted every laying eyes on the scene. Catching sight of the scene in the interior, he immediately gagged, his stomach turning to jello. 

The interior was decorated in a fantastic painting using only crimson hues and bright sparkling red. Blood was sloshed all over the walls, stickily pooling out of the elevator, a tide reaching the edge of the doors. White fatty pulp dotted the walls. Rhys watched a chunk of muscle cascade down from the ceiling. A flap of skin peeled off the wall in a sticky mess. 

The more Rhys looked at the crime scene, the worse it became.

Viscera chunks spewed across the floor. He swore those were severed fingers sticking out of the elevator corners. It was like a cheesy gorey scene right out of a horror movie. Except a lot more realistic. Oh god the smell…the smell was the worst. He retched, tasting the hot metallic stench of blood slam into his senses. Feeling the contents of his breakfast slid up his throat, Rhys bent over, clutching his stomach. He covered his mouth and forced the contents of his meager breakfast down. A burning sensation in his throat, Rhys’s eyes began to water and he coughed, casting his gaze anywhere but the bloodied elevator.

He had his answer. Rhys was triumphant in his victory. Vasquez was most definitely dead as a doornail. His insides currently painted the elevator walls with most elegance. 

Tearing his eyes away from the scene, the faint ring of Jack’s voice emanated from Rhys’s thoughts. A memory, an echo. Loud joyful laughing. Lot’s of sniggering. 

_ HAH! WOULD YA LOOK AT THAT, RHYSIE! Did you see the way that guy’s insides just went–Holy SHIT! It was like a friggin’ piñata! I’ve never seen a guy get fucked by a grenade so badly before! Just the way his eyes went ‘Pop!’ Right through his skull! HAH! _

Jack’s black humor and raucous ridiculing of the messy kill echoed throughout Rhys’s mind. His triumph over Vasquez’s entrails was cut short, as sadness bled through his emotions. He sunk lower. If only Jack were here to see Rhys take control. To see Rhys hold his own and finally take action, becoming the businessman asshole Jack always encouraged him to be. For Rhys to really step into his true potential.

Rhys shoved his grieving thoughts of Jack away. Jack was dead. He had to move onto the next chapter in his life. Ruling Hyperion. He wouldn’t have the grit to run a cutthroat billion dollar company if he was constantly moping over his partner’s death. 

Clenching his jaw, Rhys sighed and whipped out his ECHOpad. Quickly calling a janitor up to the office, he shooed AGIS to take the elevator down for a deep clean. There was no way Rhys would ever set foot in that damn thing so long a centimeter of blood remained.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rhys several chapters ago: i am above killing for personal gain. I am a very good man, i would never.
> 
> Rhys now: ...I can have a little murder...as a treat...
> 
> Honestly its not holding Rhys holding Jack back it was Jack holding Rhys back


	31. Chapter 31

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hi solius why is this chapter so FRIGGIN LONG???  
Well guys solius doesnt know either

While Rhys patiently waited for the janitor to finish scrubbing every inch of the crimson-soaked elevator, he poked around the penthouse for a bit, searching for Princess. Casting a quick glance into Jack’s bedroom, he found her curled up on the pillow of Jack’s bed, fast asleep with her tail neatly tucked over her nose. 

As Rhys quietly entered Jack’s room, he curiously observed the contents of the bedroom. He hadn’t noticed the details of the room that night he’d entered to check on Jack. The bedroom was rather bare for someone as important as Jack. Rhys noted a couple of pictures resting on a nightstand. One depicted Angel and the other showed a dark-skinned woman with shortly cropped black hair and a purple cowboy hat. She was exceedingly pretty and Rhys could see a sharp sadistic glint in her eye. Must be one of Jack’s exes. The photo was quite old and faded. 

There was a plant in one corner of the room and a bench under a window with a rather nice view over Elpis. The bookshelf across the room was rather empty. A few odd trinkets lay on it’s shelves along with several books. Along the wall were double closet doors and a multi-colored lamp. A few dirty shirts were haphazardly strewn about the floor. A desk in another corner was littered with papers and golden pens. A glowing holographic screen sat open on the desk surface, Jack’s computer. 

An emptiness settled in Rhys’s bones as he gazed into Jack’s abandoned room. It was strange...so very strange to think he was no longer here. 

Sighing, he ambled over to the cat snoring on the pillow. He reached out and gently patted her head before scooping the cat up in his arms. Rhys didn’t plan on returning to the penthouse for a while, Princess would have to move down to the office. On the way out of the penthouse Rhys grabbed a few of her supplies before cautiously setting foot in the now squeaky-clean elevator. 

A strong lemon-scented odor clung to the walls, masking any former traces of blood and entrails much to Rhys’s relief. As the elevator descended down to the office, a sense of relief flowed through him. Vasquez was dead. There were no more problems or barriers left for Rhys to overcome. Rhys could finally move on and take Jack’s place at the rightful position of CEO. Everything was well.

Rhys could move on.

Feeling the elevator grind to a halt, he let Princess drop to the floor and be the first one to step out of the elevator and into the office. The two loader bots from earlier were no longer present, they’d retired back to their original posts on the fifth floor. Stepping over the elevator threshold and following the cat into the office, Rhys dropped her supplies at the foot of Jack–no,  _ his _ desk. 

Straightening up, he glanced down from his elevated position at the desk, surveying the office below him. Well...this was all his now. Observing the office from this perspective gave Rhys a newfound sense of pride. This was the angle from how Jack perceived things, behind his desk on an elevated platform. And now...it was Rhys’s turn. 

Gingerly sitting down in the big yellow office chair, (which was unsurprisingly comfortable) Rhys leaned back, eyes straying to the knicks and knacks along Jack’s desk. A few pens, some contracts, a small fern plant and the photograph of Angel. Rhys rather liked the plant and decided Angel’s smiling portrait should remain in place for now. Rhys didn’t feel quite right moving them. After all, they were small reminders of Jack. Having them on the desk felt sort of...sadly nice. 

Suddenly remembering Meg, Rhys swung out of the chair and hopped down the steps from his desk. He ambled towards the office exit, door sliding open at his presence. Poking his head in, he leaned on the doorframe.

“Hello?”

Meg violently jumped at his appearance. Relief spread across her expression as spun to face him in her chair. 

“Rhys! Oh my god! You’re alive!”

A sheepish grin spread across his face as he gave a thumbs up. 

“Yep! CEO now too!” 

Meg chuckled, shaking her head in disbelief. 

“Incredible. So does this mean Vasquez is…?”

“He’s dead. I trapped him in the elevator with a live grenade. That’s why the janitor came by,” Rhys explained cheerfully. Meg did a visible double take, pushing her glasses up her nose. 

“You–trapped him–Okay. Okay. That’s fine. You know what? As long as he’s dead, that’s fine,” she shook her head, pinching the bridge of her nose and trying to dislodge the gruesome depiction of Vasquez’s demise from her mind. Rhys scratched his head. 

“Are there any meetings I need to attend today or calls…?” He trailed off. Meg snapped her fingers, visibly grateful for the change of subject.

“Right! Yeah, you’ve got a couple callers but no meetings scheduled,” Meg informed him after spinning in her chair to check her computer screen. Rhys flashed her a thumbs up. 

“Sounds good, thanks. I’ll be in the office if anything comes up.”

Meg grinned, turning back to her holographic screens, fingers already returning to her keyboard.

“I’ll be sure to let you know if anything does, Mr. President,” she beamed. Rhys chuckled hearing the new unfamiliar title and pushed off the doorframe. He whirled around on a heel, the door sliding shut behind him. He headed towards his old desk, the smaller one pushed off to the side and below the CEO’s. Rhys’s old desk was covered in unfinished papers, blueprints and vague work. Rhys didn’t need any of these old documents anymore. He carefully plucked one of his old projects from the table and examined the paper with a small sigh. Life used to be so simple, huh? He could hardly believe everything in his life used to revolve around this sort of simplistic work. 

Gathering up the rest of his old unfinished blueprints and documents scattered across the table, he soon had a considerably large pile in his arms. He shuffled around to the other side of the desk, kicked open a drawer and stuffed the papers inside, before kicking the drawer shut with his heel, the old papers disappearing from sight. Brushing off his hands, he neatly pushed in the rolly chair and stepped back, admiring his now old, uncharacteristically tidy work desk. Good. That was all cleared up. 

Staring blatantly around the office, Rhys wasn’t quite sure what to do next. There wasn’t much else to tidy up and he was in no steadfast emotional state to even begin considering perhaps changing any of Jack’s old setup. So instead Rhys resorted to simply swaying in the middle of the room in a slight daze, staring dumbly about the office. He had a treasure trove of memories with Jack here. 

A melancholy sadness settled over Rhys and an empty feeling tugged at his chest. He suddenly shivered, rubbing his arms together as he glanced around the office. Rhys knew he needed to move on from Jack but he couldn’t bring himself to keep going. Everything here in this office reminded him of Handsome Jack. Jack’s unfortunately large influence was impossible to escape. Especially since he was the one who built Helios, the space station which Rhys had lived on for eleven years. 

As Rhys’s sad eyes lingered across details decorating the office, he was suddenly drawn to a certain portrait across the room. The portrait wasn’t particularly flashy, nor strange, it was simply one of those generic oil portrait paintings. Yet for some reason Rhys’s gaze was continuously drawn to the picture. As he eyed the painting, a faint piece of information nagged at the back of his mind. Rhys’s annoyance pricked as he squinted at the oil painting. He struggled to recall a certain, oddly specific memory. There was something...something about that portrait...now what was it…?

Straining, Rhys searched his mind for an answer when suddenly….

“Oh,” Rhys murmured softly as the answer finally crossed his mind. The night after his and Jacks first dance. The one night drunk Rhys failed to recall. His hangover day afterwards…

Jack had shown him something–no– _ trusted  _ him with something. Something important. 

_ “If I’m ever to be–urgh how do I say this–out of commission–” _ the echo of Jack’s voice rang out in Rhys’s memory. He gaped at the portrait, a new light reaching the depths of his gaze. Right! The hidden drawers behind the painting. Jack had trusted Rhys with the task of opening them once Jack had...passed. 

Nearly breaking into a jog, Rhys crossed the room until he stood under the portrait. Reaching up with a metal hand, he grasped the corner of the gold-leaf frame and gave a firm tug. A click sounded and the portrait swung open revealing the set of silver drawers. 

Rhys set his jaw. Whatever was in here had to be of crucial importance since Jack only wanted Rhys to open it after his death. 

_ “Third drawer down,”  _ the memory of Jack’s voice helpfully reminded him. 

Reaching up, Rhys’s fingertips brushed the set of drawers until his fingers came to rest on the third drawer’s knob. Gently prying open the drawer, Rhys sucked in a deep breath before bouncing up to his tip-toes. He cautiously reached a metal hand into the depths of the drawer, his fingers curling around a piece of paper and brushing several small objects. Rhys gingerly collected the contents of the drawer before withdrawing his hand and whirling around to examine the assortment of objects between his metal fingers under better light. He was expecting a will or instructions for the fate Hyperion or maybe even a key of some sort.

Instead, there was a small, messily folded square of paper, a black and blue hard drive and a tiny strange piece of thin, pointy, shiny black metal covered in ridges. Quickly unfolding the piece of paper, Rhys sucked in a breath as he turned the note over, wondering what on earth could possibly be written on the other side. 

Words scrawled across the paper in Jack’s handwriting. He had written his message with shiny metallic gold pen, nonetheless. The fucker never passed up an opportunity to be flashy and over the top. The note from Jack read, 

_ hi rhys. nice to see you. if you arent rhys reading this and you follow my instructions you will be killed by lots of explosions so feel free to continue cuz your death will probably be funny. ok rhys i need you to plug in the hard drive to the screens at my desk. take the other metal tooth pick thing and give it to nakayama downstairs in the labs. AND DONT LOSE IT. I WILL COME BACK FROM MY GRAVE AND FUCK WITH YOU PERSONALLY IF YOU LOSE IT.  _

_ thanks pumpkin thats all love ya’ _

_ -hj _

Rhys reread the note a second time just to be sure of Jack’s instructions. He glanced at the faintly glowing hard drive and the skinny weirdly wavy metal toothpick-thing in his other hand. Rhys hadn’t the faintest what either object was for but he wisely decided following Jack’s final wishes was his best bet. 

After all, this was the very first token of Jack’s trust. And his last. 

Neatly folding the paper back into a square, Rhys tucked the note into his breast pocket. He knew the safest option would be to dispose of the message, burn or destroy it in any fashion but he stubbornly refused. That was Jack’s handwriting on that paper. The note felt too sentimental, too important. 

Thinking back to Jack’s instructions regarding the hard drive, Rhys crossed the office floor and hopped up to the elevated desk. Finding the faint holographic screens with his ECHOeye, he swiped a hand across the air. The interface popped into existence, blue outlines merging together to form the  _ H  _ Hyperion symbol. Rhys raised his hand, glancing between the hard drive inbetween his fingers and the holographic interface, pondering his next move. Suddenly, a white bubble appeared across the screen accompanied by the blinking words,

[ _ Place drive here...]  _

The holograph was translucent and most definitely NOT a solid surface, so how could he place the hard drive…? Deciding to ignore the laws of physics, Rhys carefully laid the drive into the bubble and stepped back. The hard drive hovered above the screen for a moment before a ping sounded. 

[…. _ Loading file 70%....]  _

_ _ _ [….Loading file 90%....] _

_ _ _ [….Data transfer complete….] _

_ _ Rhys’s attention was promptly drawn to the ceiling and he whirled around just in time to witness additional holographic screens fade into existence, ringing the entirety of the office near the ceiling. In his pocket, he felt his ECHO tablet buzz with a new notification. Pulling out his device, he stared wide-eyed at the screen which was now blinking with the Hyperion icon, 

_ [Message Transmission Imminent] _

_ _ What the hell was going on?

He glanced up at the holographic screens around the office, an identical pending message stamped across their surfaces. Panic flooded through Rhys as realization dawned on him. He suddenly realized why all those extra screens had fired up around the office and why the ECHOpad in his hand was receiving a message. 

The hard drive had been uploaded into the ECHOnet. Into the entirety of Hyperion’s live database. The whole damn station. Whatever was on that drive was currently being broadcast across every single screen in the Helios space station. As Rhys glared down into the yellow screen of his ECHOpad, his anxiety levels peaked and his heart skipped a beat. Had he screwed this up? Was whatever data on that hard drive supposed to broadcast all over Helios? Yes. This had to be right. Rhys had done exactly what Jack instructed in the note. Jack must’ve wanted this.

Rhys clutched the ECHOpad between his hands. His flesh fingers shook. The suspense was killing him. Whatever was being broadcasted must be huge due to the fact it was taking so damn long to load onto the screen. His wits had nearly met their ends waiting for this damned thing when suddenly–

A video flickered onto the ECHOpad screen. Glancing up, Rhys found the video projected across every holographic screen ringing the office. This was being broadcasted live over the whole Helios. 

The video was shot in the office, Handsome Jack in the mainframe. The camera was situated somewhere below Jack’s elevated desk and angled upwards, Jack’s face in the center frame. He was clad in his usual costume, four layers of clothing and all. Studying his face, Rhys could clearly make out the slight creases near his eyes. His hair was slightly more ruffled than usual. This video must have been shot weeks ago, back when Jack wasn’t at his peak performance. 

Rhys watched with wide eyes as Jack grinned, briefly slicking back his hair back before leaning forwards and offering a wink. 

“Heya kiddos! Your best friend here, Handsome Jack. Right now you're wondering,  _ “Why on earth is this Handsome man suddenly filling my screen?”” _

Video Jack paused before leaning back and spreading his hands with a grin. 

Rhys sucked in a shaky breath as he blindly gaped at the Jacks filling the screens. Hearing Jack’s voice again...watching him speak...Rhys wanted to tear his eyes away. He wanted to cover his ears and scream to drown out Jack’s voice. Numbness hollowly blossomed in his chest. 

There was no point in Rhys turning away, there would simply be another Jack behind him to capture his gaze. No matter where Rhys went, there was no escaping. There was no escaping Jack. He wouldn’t rest. And he wouldn’t ever let Rhys rest.

Swallowing back bitter tears, Rhys’s eyes remained glued upwards at the screen. At Jack. 

“Well, that’s because I’m sending one last message. I know, I know, very sad. Please feel free to start uncontrollably crying your eyes out,  _ “NO! NO! JACK DON’T GO DON’T LEAVE!”  _ Jack’s teeth flashed in a wide grin. 

“But don’t worry your little hearts out! I may be dead in the flesh–OH!” Jack suddenly gasped. 

“I forgot to mention that one tiny detail. Yeah, I’m dead. Your hero Handsome Jack was unfortunately killed in some tragic, heroic way. But I live on as Hyperion. And I will always be Hyperion. I’ll always be remembered as a hero and a legend. And as you’re all very aware, legends never die!”

Jack kicked back in his chair, putting his arms behind his head. 

“But this isn’t goodbye. I’ll always be Hyperion in spirit and I’m afraid I'm inescapable! (as well as dashingly attractive). While I may be gone–” Jack suddenly paused, wiping a faux tear from his mask. 

“You may always look up to me for guidance, as I will be here in spirit,” he sniffed, nodding at his own words. Rhys let out a breath and shook his head. Empty humor rolled through him. He sucked in a breath and chuckled, squinting his eyes as he glanced back up to the contents of the video. Jack was always an over dramatic egotistical sucker, even in death. 

Jack then straightened up, folding his hands together on the table. 

“Now while I’m gone, I still need Hyperion to function. I’m giving my PA a promotion. He’s going to be the big bad CEO while I’m away. The name’s Rhys. Might have seen him around before, brown hair, cybernetics, about yay high–” Jack vaguely gestured with one hand in reference to Rhys’s height. 

“–Freakishly long legs. If you haven’t seen him around before, now you get the picture. He gets to be Mr. Hyperion from now on, no questions asked. If you fail to comply with this new leadership, I will personally strangle you from beyond the grave!” Video Jack beamed. 

“Oh! And the executive board can’t override my decision for two reasons. One–because I’ll kill them if they try and Two–I’m giving this order while I’m still alive. Can’t override Handsome friggin’ Jack’s orders while he’s alive you dicks.”

Rhys froze. His eyes flew wide with shock. This was–this was beyond anything Rhys had ever imagined. 

Taking the corporate chair by automatic succession was...questionable. A lot of messy details like experience or qualification could easily factor doubt in executive minds whether it was righteous for Rhys to step up to the job. But now that  _ Handsome Jack  _ had broadcasted to the entirety of Helios that  _ Rhys personally _ was to become CEO…

Nobody could question that. Even if Jack was dead. Turning his eyes back to the screen, Rhys watched the last segment of the video. 

“Aaand that’s all, kiddos. From your Handsomeness truly, ciao!”

The video quickly faded to black. Rhys was left with a new influx of complicated emotions. So that was it. All of… _ that _ was the last of Jack. Officially. His final message. 

Rhys watched as the holographic screens around the room collapsed, disappearing into the background once more. Tearing his eyes away, Rhys glanced down at the holographic table just in time to see the hard drive burst into a cloud of flames before dropping to the floor. Ah, the message was self-destructive. 

Stamping out the last of the flames, he tossed the now half-molten hard-drive into the wastepaper basket under his new CEO’s desk. Rhys’s last flame of grief went out with the hard drive. Quickly brushing the tears pricking the edges of his vision away he looked out across his new office feeling a newfound sense of resolve flow through him. Inhaling deeply he sighed, pride and anticipation filling the empty void the grief had left him. Furiously rubbing the silent tears from his eyes, a sort of melancholy smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. 

Jack had left him a whole future. And Rhys was ready to step up to his responsibility. 

Glancing down, Rhys found that the thin piece of black metal Jack left him was clenched tightly in his fingers. Right. Rhys still had one last task to do. Take whatever this was to Nakayama. 

Rhys’s ECHOpad began to violently vibrate beside him and he cursed, picking it up as an influx of spam messages from Yvette and Vaughn came flooding in. That was to be expected. Rhys ignored their spam and tucked his device in his pocket. He’d deal with that later. Right now he had to follow the last of Jack’s instructions. Next, Rhys had to get down to the sub-floor labs. And quickly. 

A newfound sense of urgency in his mind, Rhys swiftly exited the office only to be stopped by Meg in the connector. 

“God–Rhys I just saw the video–how are you–are you okay?”

Rhys paused and briefly glanced in her direction. Why did everyone ask if he was alright? Of course he was fine. He was the damned CEO of an entire billion dollar company. 

“I’m fine, great actually. I’m trying to get down to Helios’s sub-labs right now…” Rhys trailed off, the thought suddenly striking him that people might recognize him and react. Just when he didn’t need any attention. Cursing, Rhys unrolled the sleeve of his cybernetic arm, struggling to conceal his metal fingers under the clothing. Meg stared at him quizzically. 

“Oh...okay. Uh...are you sure you’re okay?”

Ruffling his hair, Rhys gave her a thumbs up. 

“I’m wonderful. Do you have my schedules for the next couple days?” Rhys asked. Meg nodded. 

“Yeah–”

“Great. I’ll take those when I get back. I have an errand to run, see you in a few!” Rhys called, quickly disappearing down the hall. 

He kept his head low and stepped into the nearest elevator which was relievingly empty. The simple quick trip down through Helios was possibly the most stressful journey of Rhys’s life. Even more stressful than his botched trips to Pandora. 

Anxiety flowed through him and his blood turned to ice. He boarded the next crowded elevator and brushed past employees in the hall. Most people paid him no mind and instead were completely engaged with fellow coworkers. In fact, a general clamoring chatter followed Rhys wherever he went. 

Listening in, Rhys caught snippets of conversation. 

“You saw the video too?”

“Who is this ‘Rhys’ guy anyways?”

“I think I saw him once when I went up to Handsome Jack’s office”

Rhys sank lower on his heels, keeping his head low and his gaze fixated on his silver shoes. He shoved his hands in his pockets and quickly exited the elevator. No one had recognized him...yet. 

Quickly moving through the twisting floor of R&D, Rhys followed the route to the final elevator and punched the button. Inside the descending elevator, he pulled the metal toothpick from his pocket and gave the odd thing a long hard glare as it innocently sat in the silver palm of his hand. What was it? Why was this little insignificant piece of metal so important to Jack? 

No matter, Rhys would follow his instructions. Maybe Nakayama could provide an explanation. 

Feeling the elevator rock to a halt, Rhys stepped into Helios’s sub-labs and made a beeline for Nakayama’s door. Approaching the solid metal door, he straightened out his tie before pounding on the laboratory door with a cybernetic first. 

“Nakayama! Open up!”

Silence greeted Rhys. After a moment, he raised his fist again and left a dent in the door with his flurry of furious knocking. 

“Nakayama! It’s me, Rhys. Open up!” He called through the door. This time his outburst was answered by the muffled shuffle of footsteps from the other side of the door. Rhys stepped back as the doorknob turned and the door warily creaked open. Nakayama had opened the door at Rhys’s insistent knocking but only about a foot. He glared at Rhys suspiciously from around the doorframe. 

“Did you bring it?” Nakayama hissed, eyes darting around nervously. Rhys cast a glance over his shoulder. He was alone in the hallway. He turned back to Nakayama’s suspicious gaze. Sticking a hand in his pocket he drew out the metal toothpick-thing. 

“This?”

“That’s it. Handsome Jack told me you’d bring it,” Nakayama cautiously stretched a hand through the partially open door, palm up. Rhys paused for a moment. Was this the right thing to do? Leaving whatever this was with Nakayama?

It had to be. It was one of Jack’s final requests. This was important. 

Rhys dropped the black squiggly metal into Nakayama’s grubby outstretched fingers. Nakayama grasped the trinket and snatched his hand away back through the door. 

“Thank you, sir,” he muttered quickly, beginning to turn away.

“Hey, wait. What is that for? Do you know?” Rhys started with a step forwards. Nakayama eyed him suspiciously. 

“If Jack didn’t tell you, that must mean he doesn’t trust you. It’s not up to me to explain things,” Nakayama hissed, brows furrowing. Rhys blinked in surprise before quickly composing himself with a hot flash of restrained anger.

“Excuse me? Did you not see the video ten minutes ago? Of course–”

“–Oh where are my manners. Congratulations on the promotion,” Nakayama interrupted. 

“Have a good day, sir,” he raised his voice in finality. 

“Nakayama don’t you dare close that door–if you do I’ll have you–” Rhys couldn’t even finish his death threat before the metal door slammed shut with a forceful  _ bang.  _ Rhys cursed. He drew back his foot and gave the door a firm kick. 

“Hey! Come back here! You aren’t done talking yet!” Rhys shouted, suddenly enraged. Jiggling the doorknob was fruitless. He pounded on the door furiously to no avail. Nakayama the slimy fucker. Rhys should have known he was no good. How dare he? How dare he suggest–

Giving one last frustrated yell Rhys slammed his foot into the door before staggering back in pain. He clutched his foot and hissed in pain. 

Anger and frustration filled his mind. How dare Nakayama suggest Jack didn’t trust Rhys! Of course Jack did! There was no question about it! As his foot throbbed painfully, Rhys stubbornly remained in front of the sealed door. He cracked his metal knuckles. Oh he’d love to break into that damned room and have a friendly  _ chat  _ with the smarmy doctor.

Still, Rhys hesitated to carry out anything rash. There had been no mistaking Jack’s instructions in his note. 

Jack had wanted Nakayama to have...whatever that had been. 

Sucking in a deep breath, Rhys forced himself to cool off. Wiping his forehead he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. Jack was still a mystery, even in death. All Rhys could do was trust Jack’s decision and orders for that little toothpick’s delivery. He had to trust Jack one last time, even if Jack didn’t trust him with the knowledge of whatever that odd object had been.

This was fine. This was all fine. 

Right now, in this moment, the furious question of  _ why  _ Jack hadn’t trusted Rhys didn’t really matter anymore. Because Jack was dead. 

As Rhys defeatedly slunk back to the elevator and returned to the upper floors, the hollow numbness in his chest blossomed to life once more. He’d never be able to escape his mind-numbing grief, no matter how greatly he denied it’s existence. The denial was only temporary. Healing from this loss was impossible when everything, quite literally  _ everything  _ around Rhys revolved around Jack. All of Helios, Hyperion...everything connected back to Jack. Every goddamn thing. 

-–––––-

The next couple days as newly appointed CEO strangely enough blurred together. Almost a week later, Rhys found himself sitting in the large yellow chair in his office and smoothing out his new vest while he waited for an incoming transmission from one of the eridium scientists down on Pandora. 

Rhys had changed significantly in the past week.

“Strange and weird, dude are you sure you’re alright? You’re like really cold now.” 

“You’re like the  _ Terminator. _ ” were Vaughn and Yvette’s concerned remarks over text. 

Right. Vaughn and Yvette. The two of them had taken the news of Rhys’s leadership rather well. They both expressed pride in their bro for becoming a billionaire CEO of the largest company in the galaxy quite literally overnight. Rhys still remained Vaughn’s roommate. Rhys technically could have taken over Jack’s old penthouse but Rhys couldn't bring himself to return up there. Living in there would be too painful and if Rhys ever wanted to heal, his best bet would be to avoid that place forever. So instead, after a long explanation to Vaughn, he remained living in their small apartment.

Rhys vigorously assured his two best friends that despite his new position, nothing was changing between the three of them. They’d still have their B&B nights. Although no more daily lunches together, Rhys couldn’t be seen down in the lunchroom with them. This was due to Rhys’s new CEO position coming an alarming amount of targeted assassinations. As much as Rhys hated the thought, he couldn’t hang around Vaughn and Yvette very much anymore. Rhys convinced himself this was for the best, he wanted to keep his friends safe. 

Six. Rhys had been CEO for less than a week and he’d already had six attempts on his life. Four happened in the office. Two in the halls. 

In the office, the assassins’ hands were quickly burned by Rhys’s highly effective fire shield. Afterwards, Rhys made quick work of them with his pistol. He felt nothing as he popped caps into their skulls except a slight twinge of disgust at the blood spattering the carpet. 

The assassination attempts in the halls had been a bit messier. Rhys had accidentally presented quite the show to the whole employee population of Sector F TWICE. Apparently strangling someone to death who’d just put a gun to your head provided gruesome entertainment for Helios employees. As Rhys kicked the asphyxiated bodies aside, he ignored the wide-eyed gazes of bystanders and grimaced.

So this is what Jack experienced daily, huh? No wonder he’d been so jumpy and paranoid.

Between the unexpected shows in Sector F, company meetings, announcements or employees dropping off documents for Rhys to his office, word was quickly passed around. People began to learn  _ exactly _ who Rhys was. Old co-workers recognized him in the corridors. Rhys no longer had the pleasure of strolling quietly through Helios, unbothered. Now, whispers followed him wherever he walked, all sets of eyes locked onto him in the halls. Heads bowed respectfully as he passed. Rhys was reluctant to comfortably accept his title but he eventually grew into his new situation after only a few days. 

In Rhys’s new top position, unbeknownst to himself, he’d become rather cold and stony. His charming grins were filled with ice and his humor evolved into something sharper and darker. He lost a fair chunk of the brighter aspects of his personality. He regarded others coolly and often found himself unconsciously taking on some of Jack’s old assholish nature. However the one thing that Rhys thankfully didn’t inherent was Jack’s unfortunate taste in spontaneous homicide. 

Rhys never laid a finger on any employees whether it be during business meetings or workers who came into his office, even if they were a massive dick. The farthest Rhys went was pulling his gun out and firing off a couple warning shots past an unfortunate woman’s head. He was a lot more merciful than the previous CEO even if he had the new persona of an utter corporate asshole. 

Word quickly spread of Rhys’s leadership. In a matter of days, seemingly everybody grew to recognize him. Even callers from other companies began to learn his name. 

Everything was business now. Business business business. Rhys had work to do. Rhys always had work to do. Actually, Rhys was thankful his mind was kept dutifully busy at all hours of the day. Work and stress distracted him from feeling the pain and loss of Jack endlessly tormenting him day and night. 

Sometimes, Rhys’s vivid imagination would conjure up Jack lounging in the room, or snippets of snarky remarks in his ear during executive meetings. If Rhys had a personal hell, his torture woud be Jack. Or rather, Jack’s ugly demise. As much as Rhys convinced himself it weren’t true, he missed Jack. A lot. The longing was almost too much to bear. Often, Rhys found himself awake at ungodly hours in the morning, hollow tears in his eyes as he curled up on his mattress, wishing Jack’s warmth were beside him. 

Despite Rhys’s desolate desperate attempts to rid Jack from his thoughts, his struggle was futile. Nothing worked. Jack always be there...a hollow empty chasm in his soul. 

\---------

As Rhys readjusted the cuff of his black sleeve, he tapped his foot impatiently and glared up at the holographic screens around his office. Where on earth was that scientist? She was supposed to call three minutes prior. Rhys was a stickler for promptness and he felt his annoyance prickle. 

Just then, Meg poked her head into the office around the door. 

“Yo! I just received a message from that scientist that was supposed to call you, she says there’s been another attack, they need backup,” Meg shouted across the office. Rhys heaved a dramatic sigh and lazily flicked a metal hand across the holographic interface buzzing over the desk.

Spinning around in the big yellow chair, Rhys whirled to face the bay windows just in time to observe the moonshot send several blazing balls of light hurtling towards Pandora.

_ A dozen loader bots should be enough help.  _ Rhys thought satisfactorily. The moonshot was friggin’ awesome. As expected, the massive superweapon gave him a very overwhelming sense of power. He whirled around towards Meg who was still leaning against the doorframe, watching Rhys flick away the moonshot controls. 

“Have those spies got their hands on any new info?” Rhys called. Meg’s face scrunched up in thought. 

“I think so, let me check.”

Rhys watched her bounce around the corner out of sight. Meg was an extraordinary secretary. There was no wonder how she’d survived under Jack for so long. She was incredible! Always had everything Rhys requested or needed on hand and was never afraid to boss him around at appropriate times when he needed a slap back to reality from falling too far in a drunken haze of power. She was a good friend and had an incredible sense of style. 

After all, she was the one who’d picked out Rhys’s new uniform. The conversation had gone something like,

“Y’know what I need now that I’m boss? Cool clothes.” 

“Definitely. I’ll order some tonight for you.” 

“Wait–Oh no it's fine I don’t–”

“Trust me. I got this.”

The very next day Meg had dropped off the package for Rhys at the desk. That night when Rhys had retired back to his apartment, he’d dashed into his room and carefully opened up the clothing box. He caught a whiff of that brand new fabric smell as he carefully lifted out the garments. 

Trying on the outfit, Rhys spun around in the mirror and smoothed out his hair, grinning. Shit, Meg was really good at fashion. 

Rhys was dressed in mostly black. He wore a black collared button-up with one left sleeve, cuffed at his flesh elbow. On the opposite side, his cybernetic arm was in full view. A tight, shiny, dark grey vest fitted nicely over his shoulders adorned with bright golden buttons. He wore a dark overcoat with an identical sleeve style to the collared undershirt. The coat was short in the front and cut into two short jagged tails in the back. Yellow stripes ran horizontal across the right breast of his jacket.

The black pants were rather plain save for the thin Hyperion yellow stripes running up and down his left pant leg. His pants were precariously cuffed just above his silvery-grey shoes. His belt buckle was a light blue, which gave a wonderful contrast to the slightly orange hue of the fire shield strapped to his leg. 

Grinning, Rhys had unbuttoned the top few buttons of his collared shirt and ruffled the fabric. The tag ends of his blue tattoo ink peaked just over his collarbone into view. Now that, that looked sleek as fuck. 

Shit, he was stunning. He’d made a mental note to up Meg’s paycheck.

After unabashedly admiring himself in the mirror for a few minutes longer, Rhys had exited his room and accidentally bumped into Vaughn who did a spectacular double take at his roomates new appearance. Rhys grinned, spreading his arms.

“Do you like it?”

“I–It looks really good. Woah. Well...except for the open collar. Not gonna lie between the open collar and the black you look like a goth manwhore,” Vaughn raised his eyebrows, giving his brutally honest opinion. To that Rhys had just snorted. 

“Nah, it makes me look badass.”

“What’s that for anyways?” Vaughn inquired curiously. 

“It’s my new outfit. Y’know, Jack had his quadruple layer thing, I have an all black thing,” Rhys beamed. Vaughn considered this for a moment. 

“You know, on second thought...if this is an everyday CEO outfit…the collar thing is actually kind of a power move. Hey, I mean if seducing people is your thing...I won’t stop you,” Vaughn shrugged. Rhys rolled his eyes. 

“It’s not for seduction its for intimidation.”

“Hmm...whatever you say.”

The day afterwards Rhys heeded Vaughn’s suggestion and buttoned up a few of his bottom buttons, but still left a few open near the top of his collar. 

-

Now back to present day with Rhys in his office. He only had to wait a couple minutes before Meg returned, striding up to his desk and slapping an envelope onto the table surface. 

“Here’s the reports our spies have given us. They came in an hour ago,” Meg informed him. 

“I’ll leave you to it. Holler if you need anything,” she waved, heels clicking across the floor as she hurried back to her domain. Rhys muttered a quick expression of gratitude before picking up the envelope and slitting open the top. Shaking the manilla envelope upside down, Rhys’s quick reflexes caught the hard drive that came tumbling out. 

Plugging the drive into his holographic interface, Rhys briefly skimmed the report. Hyperion had spies in nearly every company. Maliwan, Tediore, Jakobs and a few others. Reading the reports, he found a couple of strange consistencies. Maliwan and Jakobs have been striking deals more frequently and a couple of their sub-factories have linked up. Jakobs and Tediore had also engaged in similar actions. 

The whole scenario seemed a bit odd but Rhys shrugged the contents of the report away. Rival companies were probably struggling to stay afloat in this sector of the galaxy and simply needed some support from fellow manufacturers. There probably wasn’t much else to it. 

Crushing the hard drive between his steel fingers, Rhys tossed its remains in the trash. He then turned back to the interface, swiping across the screen a few times to resume his afternoon of work. 

\----------

The next couple days passed without much vigor. Rhys had come to the decision he needed to plan out a commemoration of Jack’s passing. A fair share of workers on Helios expressed sadness about Jack’s death and with a heavy heart Rhys came to the conclusion that Jack’s death needed at least some form of proper respectful closure. 

In the office, Rhys sat at his desk idly drumming his metal fingers on his cheek and glaring at his screen. He was debating what sort of commemoration this should be. He should assemble the entirety of Helios somewhere and probably say at least a few words...hrmmm...maybe champagne too, y’know, to calm everyone’s nerves. 

Yeah, that sounded like a plausible idea. The ceremony wouldn’t be broadcasted anywhere, the only viewers would be the employees on Helios. So, not too large. Rhys wouldn’t have to plan a massive event but he’d still have to acquire copious amounts of champagne from somewhere. 

While deciding on what aspect of this whole thing he should work on first, Rhys was suddenly interrupted by the sound of his office door sliding open. He glanced up, expecting Meg. Rhys was completely thrown for a loop when he realized who’d walked through the door.

“Angel?”

The little girl was standing in the doorway, a determined expression written over her childish features. GORTYS hovered behind her a protective guardian as always. The small siren was a very shy girl and appeared anxious as she glanced around Rhys’s office worriedly. She then determinedly clenched her fists and marched up to his desk. 

Rhys forced a swallow as she approached, her features hauntingly similar to Jack’s. Rhys recalled bumping into her down in the sub-level labs a week or two earlier. Instead of facing her properly, he turned tail and ran. But no running from a simple little girl anymore. She was here again and Rhys was forced to face her square on. 

Sliding off his chair, Rhys stood before he striding out from behind his desk. He paused, eyeing her approach. 

“What’s going on? Are you okay?” Rhys ventured cautiously. He hadn’t seen Angel in a few weeks. Guilt bubbled inside him. He probably should have checked on her at some point like a responsible adult. Damnit, he was a coward. He should have checked on her. Jack would have wanted that. Rhys sighed. 

“I–I should have talked to you earlier. I’m sorry…” he started slowly, his words not quite confident. Angel halted in front of him, glaring upwards. Her other eye peaked through her stringy black hair. 

“Tell me what happened,” she demanded, voice wobbly. Rhys blinked down at her. 

“About what? What do you want to know?” He asked. 

“What happened to my dad? Nobody will tell me. Not even GORTYS,” she scowled, stamping her foot and casting her robot guardian a glare. 

“It’s to protect you dear!” GORTYS chirped. Angel threw up her hands. Angry tears sparkled in the corners of her eyes. 

“That’s what everyone keeps sayin’ ! I just–I want somebody to tell me the truth,” she declared, rubbing a tattooed hand over her tearful eyes. She then gave Rhys a stubborn firm glare. 

“You ran away from me last time. Why?! Why can’t I know what happened to my dad? It’s not fair!” she sniffed rubbing her nose. A pang of guilt and grief stabbed through Rhys’s chest. How would he explain that Jack was dead? To his kid nonetheless? No sort of Helios employee training could have ever prepared Rhys for something like this. He squatted down to his knees, meeting Angel at eye-level. She stared back at him with sky blue, wide watery eyes. 

“Jack is…” Rhys began. 

“I know he’s dead,” Angel cut in before she broke off into a loud sob and buried her face in her hands. Rhys instinctively recoiled. Her words slammed into him like a brick to the face. Jack was dead. Rhys bit the inside of his cheek and felt his own tears prick the corners of his eyes. 

“Yeah…” he murmured. He suddenly found himself staring anywhere but the small sobbing form of Handsome Jack’s daughter. Guilt bubbled up from his gut. What was he to do? What should he say? 

Angel slowly wiped her eyes and gazed at Rhys with a wobbly expression. Tears streamed down her cheeks and the whites of her eyes had faded to pink. Her whole body was wracked with sobs. 

“B...But–hic–h….how did….how did–hic–he d…d…die?” Angel choked out before letting out a despair inducing wail and blubbering into her hands. 

“Why d...did h...he…” she trailed off with inaudible words in the palms of her hands. Rhys’s gaze softened with both empathy and pity for the helpless girl in front of him. 

“He...there were some bandits on Pandora….they...they overpowered him,” Rhys murmured out, feeling the numb void in his chest wrench open. He raised a flesh hand up to the left side of his face, feeling an unexpected wetness. It hadn’t occurred to him tears were silently streaming down his cheek. 

At Rhys’s answer, something between a sob and a choking wail spilled from Angel’s mouth. She tumbled forwards, suddenly latching herself onto Rhys and clutching at the fabric of his jacket. She buried her face in the fabric of his vest as violent sobs escaped her frail body. Rhys flinched, staring in surprise at her actions. He glanced down at her trembling form clinging to his jacket. Tears dripped off his nose and into the top of her stringy black hair.

And so he enveloped her in his arms and pressed his cheek to the top of her head. 

“–I...I–hic–I just w...w–” Angel choked. Rhys squeezed her in a tighter, comforting grip. 

“Shh...it’s okay,” he murmured in comfort, rocking back and forth holding the frail siren girl in his arms. She sniffled, her shoulders heaving as tears spilled from her eyes, soaking into the fabric of his black collared shirt. 

She wasn’t the only one drowning in a sea of tears either. Rhys closed his teary vision and readjusted his hug to be more comfortable. He gently patted Angel’s hair as a choked sort of sigh escaped him. 

“It’s alright...it’s alright...everything’s alright,” he slowly hummed. Angel bumped her head against his chest, still wracked in violent sobs. He clung to her as she clung to him. Their conjoined grief seemed to echo around the office and Rhys could barely keep himself from falling apart. 

\-----------

The two of them sat entangled in a pool of tears and grief at the foot of Jack’s old desk. Time crawled by slowly as the two remained glued to the floor. When Rhys finally opened his eyes, he found Angel still entangled in his embrace. Her crying had ceased and she was utterly silent save for the rise and fall of her breathing. She was limply draped in Rhys’s arms. Rhys had remained by her side for so long, she’d fallen asleep. Poor girl. Rhys could understand some semblance of her grief. 

He made a mental note to pay her a few visits down in R&D in the near future.

Glancing up, he caught sight of GORTYS quietly hovering over the two of them. 

“Hey, could you take her home?” Rhys asked softly. GORTYS made a quiet beep of confirmation before silently de-compacting herself. Rhys watched as her metal plates shifted and enlarged to accommodate the space for a child inside. 

With extreme care, Rhys gathered an unconscious Angel up in his arms and quietly carried her over to her robot guardian. His eyes strayed to the tear-stained paleness of her cheeks. God...she resembled Jack’s likeness too much for her own good. 

Blinking back a sudden influx of tears, Rhys sighed and cradled her frail form in his arms. 

“Sleep well, hun,” he murmured, gently lowering her limp form into GORTYS’s hollow chamber. With a metal hand, he carefully brushed a few stray locks of hair out of her face. 

Observing her calm, sleeping form, Rhys felt a prickle of guilt blossom in his chest. 

He wasn’t brave enough to tell her the whole truth. He barely told her details or important facts like how he failed to prevent Jack from leaving in the first place. 

Quietly, Rhys brushed his tears away and cracked a slight hollow smile. At least her mind was at rest. 

Taking a few paces back from GORTYS, Rhys folded his arms in front of him as he watched Angel’s frail form disappear behind GORTYS’s metal plates.


	32. Chapter 32

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back to me screaming....uhhhaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

The last interaction with Angel sparked something in Rhys. He felt a newfound sense of clarity and finality in the grief of Jack’s passing. He developed the sense that an old chapter of his life had closed and a new chapter had begun. 

That wasn’t to imply Rhys was happy nor that his life had turned into his old picture-perfect fantasy of gaining recognition. 

Every day dragged on dreadfully long. There was a certain painful hole in the heart of his chest. Something dearly important was missing, Rhys had lost the piece fitting the empty space. And Rhys knew that hollow hole was something never to be filled. The void would be impossible to fill. After all, the only someone in the entire universe who could possibly do the job was stone cold dead. 

Sometimes, Rhys drowned himself in hopeless thoughts, knowing he would never heal and he’d always suffer from a missing part of himself. He tried his best...he tried his absolute best to forget...to reason with himself that this was natural and he had to let things go in order to let himself heal...but he couldn’t bring himself to do what needed to be done. He couldn’t bring himself to forget and let go of what he dearly loved.

And so he suffered. 

\-----------

The day following Rhys’s grief-stricken meeting with Angel, Rhys had brought himself to the completion of the Jack commemoration plans. He hoped this whole event wouldn’t come off as a funeral. Funerals were sad. Rhys wanted this to be more like official closure but without dramatic sobbing. Deciding on a date sometime in the next week, Rhys whirled around in his big yellow office chair and pulled up a couple screens on his holographic interface. The final task for him to accomplish on his agenda was sending out the Helios-wide notice of invitation. After that…the only difficult task Rhys had left was to impatiently sit and wait for the dreaded day of the commemoration to arrive. 

\-----------

Unsurprisingly, the day of the commemoration arrived impossibly fast. In the final days leading to the occasion Rhys barely had the time to mentally prepare himself, much less build up a suitable mental, steel wall to regulate his emotional state in front of thousands of people. Oh well...he’d do his best. Hopefully he wouldn’t break down. Hopefully. 

Now it was time.

\-------------

Rhys gazed out across the atrium. He stood solemnly on a small raised platform at one end of the massive towering hall. A large crowd gathered below standing before him, a sea of heads mingling about each other. A loud murmur of conversation rose from the impossibly large crowd below. The commemoration for Jack had quite the turnout, Rhys estimated nearly all of Helios had shown up. 

Most attendees dressed in their usual business clothes. Small flashes in the crowd revealed most held a glass of champagne or other unspecified alcohol. 

As Rhys stood on the platform, his feet rooted themselves firmly to the floor. An unusually heavy sensation weighed him down. Throat dry, he glanced down at the champagne glass delicately balanced in his metal fingers. Taking a quickest smallest sip, he inhaled deeply, feeling that familiar suffocating weighted sensation of dark sadness drape over shoulders. He was about to start speaking soon about the topic of Jack. Quite frankly, Rhys wasn’t sure he was ready to do this. 

Heart heavy, he shifted, glancing out among the sea of chattering Helios employees devoutly gathered below him. Rhys had memorized a quick short speech, he had no intentions of turning this into a long drawn out sob fest. Rhys had even remarked on this before. He was a straightforward man and always cut right to the chase. Getting straight to the point was always important but even more so right now at this event. Rhys was quite unsure how long he’d be able to last without cracking. 

Switching his champagne glass to his flesh fingers, Rhys raised his metal hand and gave a fleeting gesture. Screens around the atrium powered down. Soon, a vast ocean of thousands of unblinking eyes gazed blindly up at Rhys’s dark figure standing on the elevated platform. 

Under the vast number of Helios employee’s expectant gazes, Rhys suddenly felt quite insignificant and strangely small under the presence of the people before him. 

Chatter in the crowd soon ceased to silence. Rhys stole one more fleeting glance around the atrium before he straightened up and smoothed out the folds in his dark coat. 

His gaze flitted over the crowd with a slight twinge of pride. These were his people now. He had to appear strong, like a real leader. After all, this commemoration was the first time Rhys had called a true assembly across Helios. He had to give the people what they came for, there was absolutely no backing down now. The hour had arrived and so came the time to give Handsome Jack some proper closure once and for all. Rhys sucked in a breath, preparing to speak. 

“Members of the Hyperion corporation, we are gathered here today…”

As Rhys spoke, he utterly surprised himself. His words flowed with a newfound sense of clarity. Speaking about this topic turned out astonishingly easier than Rhys initially expected. Perhaps that was a clue to his state of grief. Maybe he was beginning to heal. 

He gestured small mannerisms with his flesh arm all the while delicately clutching his glass of champagne. For the first time in a good while, tears weren’t hot and ready, pricking the corners of his eyes, nor did his throat begin to constrict and choke. 

While speaking, he felt a sense of confidence. A sort of melancholy acceptance. After all, this was it. This was the final time Rhys would ever have to speak about Jack again. He’d be able to move on. 

Rhys’s words flowed smoothly as he projected his speech to the crowd. Satisfactory confidence began to warm his chest. Everything about this whole commemoration event was taking a turn for the better. Hope flared in Rhys’s mind. This was–

Rhys’s heart gave a violent unexpected jolt causing his words to falter for a half a second. Heart thudding against his ribcage, he regained his composure and continued as if he’d seen nothing.

As he had gazed over the crowd, a hauntingly familiar face glared up at him from somewhere in the midst of the fray. Stark white and unexpectedly infuriating.

Tearing his eyes away from the crowd for a split second, Rhys swallowed, panic seeping into his chest. Oh come  _ on.  _ No. Not now. He couldn’t be glimpsing the ghost of Jack right now. No. Not at this particular moment. Scratch that, not even on this particular  _ day.  _ Rhys was already at his wits end, he couldn’t be hallucinating such stupid things. Especially in front of the entirety of Helios. Rhys absolutely needed to be a headstrong leader for Hyperion, not a mentally unstable, weak-minded, broken-hearted hallucinatory fool. 

Blinking rapidly, Rhys forced his breath to remain steady as his heart beat in jagged bursts. Feeling rather lightheaded as he continued to speak, he forced himself to remain presenting calm, cool and collected to the people below him. 

Finally gathering enough courage, Rhys glanced back towards the spot in the crowd where he’d spotted Jack’s pale mask. 

His searching gaze returned with nothing. No one. The startlingly white face in the crowd had vanished. 

_ Great. My mind is now playing games with me. Fantastic. Just what I need right now. _

_ _ Rhys’s brow furrowed in irritation. He made a futile attempt to shrug off the haunting stare of Jack’s familiar wide eyes in the crowd. 

Now Rhys had just about reached the middle of his whole spiel and his mind had (thankfully) begun to ease of stress when the whole thing happened  _ again _ . 

_ Fuck. _

This time, Rhys’s words tumbled to a genuine halt for a full quarter of a second. Eyes wide, he gazed almost accusingly down at the front-most portion of the crowd beneath him. His eyes were drawn to a particular man in the crowd. There he was again. Rhys’s accursed hallucination of Handsome goddamn Jack’s ghost. Except this ‘ghost’ of Jack appeared a little too real for Rhys’s liking. Uneasiness settled in Rhys’s bones as he squinted towards the mask in the crowd. There was the fleeting glimpse of a smirk before Rhys squeezed his eyes shut for half a second. Half a second was more than enough time required for Jack to disappear without a trace into the crowd once more. 

Recovering from initial shock, Rhys quickly shook off his unnerving hallucination and continued speaking as if he'd witnessed nothing. Fingers trembling against the glass in his hand, his heart raced and blood thudded in his ears. He hated this. This whole stupid commemoration thing. God damnit, he wished he’d never gotten the stupid, stupid idea in the first place. This self proclaimed closure did nothing for his health but torture and cut open his grieving mind further. Shit, he needed to wrap up this speech and get the hell out of this place. And he needed to get the hell out of here  _ fast.  _ Rhys wasn’t sure how much longer he could last with this. 

Thankfully, he was nearing the end of his speech. As Rhys spoke, his jittery nerves quelled and he began to feel slightly at ease again. Relief flooded through him. He was almost finished. Soon he would be done with this whole damned thing. Then he could go home and cry in his bed. That sounded fantastic. Words couldn’t begin to describe how thankful he felt that this whole ordeal was nearing its well deserved end. 

Rhys had just begun to recover and feel good about himself once more when everything turned to utter hell. 

There was an audible clatter of footsteps behind Rhys on the thin few stairs leading up to his platform. Someone was on their way up. Dark, angry thoughts shot through Rhys’s head. So, yet another assassination attempt eh? Someone actually got the daft idea through their stupid head to try and sneak up on him on the platform in front of the  _ entirety  _ of Helios and assassinate him on this particular day at this particular event. With a slight aggravated growl, Rhys broke off speaking mid-sentence and promptly rested his champagne glass on the rail. 

_ Well...looks like I’ll be providing another show like Sector F, except this time it’s the entire population of Helios. No biggie.  _

His organic hand curled around the smooth cool handle of his pistol, fully locked and loaded on the ‘explosion’ notch simply for max damage. 

As the footsteps grew to max volume, Rhys whirled around and whipped the gun from its holster. The intruder leapt up the final step and froze, seeing the barrel of Rhys’s pistol pointed straight between his eyes. Rhys’s heart gave a violent twist and his finger slipped off the trigger. Eyes wide, he scrambled backwards, pistol barely hanging in his limp trembling grip.

“Jack?” 

“Heya cupcake.”

The man who’d stepped up behind Rhys was...Jack. Well of course it was Jack, who else could it possibly be? Rhys didn’t have any other dead ghosts bopping around his head. Sheer panic flooded Rhys’s veins and he suddenly felt extraordinarily light. Flesh hand shaking, his grip on the pistol tightened as he raised the gun once more. Although this time Rhys held the weapon out of fear rather than anger. Nono...no...This couldn’t be the real Jack. This was impossible. The real Jack was lying somewhere down in the secret labs, cold and grave with a hole punched clean through his heart. 

He couldn’t be alive and breathing. His heart couldn’t possibly be beating since it had been torn from his ribcage and crushed in a siren’s fist weeks ago. Right?

Yet here Jack was, defying all law and rational reason. He amusedly held a glass of champagne in his left hand. Jack’s appearance hadn’t changed one bit since Rhys had last seen him alive and breathing. Same stupidly thick layers in his getup, same shield strapped to his thigh, same mask and the same goddamn smarmy grin plastered over his expression. The most infuriating aspect of this whole thing was...he looked  _ so damn pleased  _ with himself.

The Jack before him was so infuriatingly Jack-like, for a moment Rhys forgot how to breath. No, this couldn’t be real. 

He pinched the flesh of his thigh with his free metal hand for a reality check. Discovering pain, he realized this was not a dream.

Maybe Jack was some sort of crazed hallucination. If Jack was a hallucination, no one else would be able to see him...right?

Rhys cast a quick glance out into the crowd of Helios behind him. Their gazes were admittedly fixated beyond Rhys and locked in awe onto Jack’s slightly swaying form. Eyes in the crowd revealed shock, relief and mostly confusion. 

The sea of Helios employees could most definitely see Jack, so hallucination was crossed off Rhys’s rational explanation list. 

A tiny thought buried deep in Rhys’s mind was in blind disbelief. He so desperately wanted the man before him to be  _ the  _ Handsome Jack. He wanted Jack back and he wanted Jack alive. Rhys didn’t want to endure the pain of this numbing empty hole in his chest any longer. 

That tiny part of him desperately wished this were Jack. Maybe, through some secret, wild, fantasy sci-fi way Jack could have been revived from death. 

But alas Rhys’s rational thoughts quickly seized back control.

The last viable explanation Rhys could grasp was a body double. Jack probably had had more than one doppelgänger, right? Yeah...that made sense. This had to be a doppelgänger. 

As Rhys gaped with his mouth slightly ajar at the man before him, he lowered the pistol. Snapping his mouth shut, he quickly regained composure and straightened his shoulders.

Rhys would simply have to play along with whatever this doppelgänger Jack had in mind. 

“How are you alive?” Rhys cleared his throat and began simply. The Jack gave Rhys a sly wink, 

“I’ll explain that later, Rhysie,” before he brushed past Rhys to stand at the platform railing, facing the crowd of Helios workers below. Rhys slowly turned and frowned. The use of Jack’s old pet name for him nagged at the back of his mind. He didn’t like this. This whole situation was bringing a sense of uneasiness. The longer this Jack was around, the more familiar he was becoming. 

“Your savior is here!” Jack spread his arms, addressing the crowd.

“Hey kiddos! Bet you thought you’d seen the last of this handsome mug, huh? Well surprise! You totally fell for that video! Why are all your little faces so shocked? I thought I hinted at my heroic return somewhere in that message...hmm...well that’s not important. What’s important is that this handsome ass is back, baby!”

Jack gestured out to the crowd with his champagne glass. 

“Handsome Jack’s back in business! So let’s drink and then get back to work! Hyperion’s got a schedule to keep!” Jack exclaimed, tossing the rest of the champagne down his throat before shattering his glass across the platform with a violent hurl and an energetic whoop. Rhys flinched, hopping backwards to avoid the spray of glass at his feet.

“For Hyperion!” Jack roared, raising a fist. A clamor rose up from the ranks of employees as a disorganized yell of, 

“For Hyperion!” echoed out of the crowd. Chuckling, Jack spun around on a heel and stalked towards Rhys. A grin stretched ear to ear across his mask. His expression so hauntingly familiar Rhys could barely bring himself to speak. His heart was pounding.

“I–I welcome back,” he managed out, grinding his jaw shut. He quickly stuck out his hand, offering a handshake. The gesture was made out of politeness. After all, he’d never met this Jack doppelgänger before. 

Jack studied Rhys’s outstretched hand with a mildly confused stare before he grinned and rather energetically slipped his fingers inbetween Rhys’s metal ones. Blinking in surprise, Rhys glanced up and met Jack’s gaze with wide eyes. Rhys’s mind was a mess of confusion as Jack intertwined his hand in Rhys’s.

Rhys suddenly felt small under Jack’s observant gaze as he narrowed his eyes, a small grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. He leaned in. 

“Nice getup, the black really suits you, kitten.”

No no. This was impossible. Revival from the dead was an impossible feat, utterly unheard of. Dying was a one way street. No...this...this couldn’t be the real Jack. Rhys squashed the small hopeful thought in the back of his brain. No. There was absolutely zero possibility. This Jack just must be...really into the act…? Maybe…? Hey...maybe he’d just accidentally grabbed Rhys’s hand or something?

Rhys was terrible at lying to himself. He tried to unwind his fingers from Jack’s hand but Jack held him fast. 

“Come on, we need to get outta here and somewhere private, otherwise we’ll be trampled by a couple hundred star-struck employee idiots,” Jack decided, brushing past Rhys and forcefully pulling him along down the stairs off the platform. 

Rhys willingly followed closely behind, smaller metal hand still folded in Jack’s larger grip. The tails of Jack’s overcoat fluttered and Rhys’s gaze remained fixed onto the small yellow tag in between Jack’s shoulders on the back of his coat. As Jack pulled him along, Rhys could barely breathe. He could barely think straight. His thoughts were a confused jumble. See, the more Jack spoke, the more Rhys was convinced it was truly him. 

Heart fluttering against his ribcage, an old sense of warmth curled around inside his chest, replacing the usual residence of a dark numb void. Despite the impossibility and improbability of this being Handsome Jack, Rhys was surprisingly hopeful. With every step Jack took, pulling him through Helios’s floors, slowly, Rhys was swayed to believe this was his Jack. The real Jack.

Speaking of, where was Jack leading him? Finally snapping from his awed stupor and observing the surroundings rushing past them, Rhys recognized the hallway Jack was guiding him through. With long strides, Rhys hurried up from behind Jack to beside him. Rhys elected to ignore the fact their fingers were still tightly intertwined. Jack didn’t seem to have a desire to let go anytime soon. 

Glancing over and curiously observing his pale mask, Rhys opened his mouth.

“Are we going to my–your office?” He corrected himself quickly. 

“Yeah,” Jack answered nonchalantly as the pair of them rounded the next hallway corner. They were on the twenty-second floor and headed straight for the gold emblazoned doors of the CEO’s office. Striding through the connector, they entered the office. 

Rhys paused as the final door slid shut behind them. He expected Jack to halt as well, seeing they’d reached the office but Jack continued to tug him along. 

The two of them crossed the office and now stood in front of the red elevator doors leading up to the penthouse. Rhys glanced at Jack warily. He still wasn’t one hundred percent certain this was the real Jack. He didn’t have enough solid proof. 

Rhys had no clue what to do nor what to think. He supposed the easiest course of action would be to simply play along with whatever this Jack doppelganger (or real Jack) was intending. 

“AGIS! Open up,” Jack called out. 

“Sure,” AGIS’s voice manifested lazily above their heads. Rhys cast Jack a sly wayward glance. Well...this Jack knew about AGIS. The the odds were increasingly pointing towards the possibility that the Jack beside Rhys was in fact, the real Jack. Swiftly stepping into the elevator, Rhys  _ finally  _ managed to slip his fingers away, feeling an odd twinge of disappointment at the warmth of Jack’s hand fading from his own. He folded his hands neatly in front of him and stared straight, dead ahead as the elevator doors slid shut. His expression remained stone, impassive and unmoving. He could feel Jack’s gaze burning into him from the side but Rhys ignored his curious, piercing stare and instead kept his own eyes locked ahead. Rhys would keep to himself until he found out just what  _ exactly _ was going on here. 

Jack shared Rhys’s silence. 

As the elevator jolted to a halt, Rhys swiftly exited and stepped into the penthouse. Glancing around he found everything as he’d left it. The penthouse went untouched since Rhys had last been here a week or two prior. Even the lights had remained dark. The room was cast in a dim purple glow, faint light filtering through the bay window casting long shadows of both Rhys and Jack stretched across the floorboards. Rhys heard Jack shuffle into the room behind him. 

Inhaling a deep, silent breath in order to calm his racing nerves, Rhys stepped into the middle of the livingroom before spinning around to face Jack, his flesh hand tracing the grip of his pistol. He clenched his jaw and gazed at Jack with calm, yet narrowed, suspicious eyes. 

Jack didn’t appear fazed by Rhys’s tense reaction. In fact, he was acting like a complete casual. He yawned and flexed his fingers. Glancing around at the penthouse, he grinned. 

“Huh, well this place looks exactly like I left it. And you–” Jack raised an eyebrow as a sly smirk played across his mask. 

“Why didn’t you mention how friggin’  _ good  _ you look in black,” Jack rubbed his hands together, dragging his gaze up and down Rhys’s figure. 

“It’s nice to see you still up and about! I can’t believe my Rhysie is finally running Hyperion all on his own.”

Jack then took a stride forwards, hands settling on his hips and gazing down at Rhys. They were closer now, almost a foot apart. Rhys stood his ground and crossed his arms, glaring up into Jack’s smug mask. Rhys’s expression betrayed nothing. Jack’s flattering words had completely flown over his head as he stubbornly set his jaw. His ECHOeye pulsed faintly as a mixture of irritation and sadness welled up from below. He couldn’t decide whether to lie down and cry or whip out his pistol and shoot something. So instead he settled on using his words.

“Look. It’s fine. No one can see us here. You can drop the act, I know you aren’t the real Jack. You’re one of the doppelgangers,” Rhys ventured coolly, fingers still warily tracing the surface of his pistol grip.

For a moment, disconcert flickered across Jack’s mask. His brows furrowed and a hint of something unreadable flitted across his expression. His face suddenly lifted and he chuckled, shaking his head. He glanced up at Rhys’s unmoving expression.

“Handsome Jack died three weeks ago. I don’t know who you are but you’d better explain yourself. And quickly, I’m tired,” Rhys snapped. 

Jack’s laughter was quick to dissipate. 

“Oh–I...that’s why you’re so weird and detached. You don’t believe it’s really me, huh?” Jack was quick to put two and two together. 

“Although I gotta say...it’s a good thing you’re cautious...that means you know how to take care of yourself and be careful…I mean after all...you’re the CEO of Hyperion, you’re a hero. The hero needs to protect himself…’cause he gets backstabbed the most,” Jack offered with a knowing, sly grin. Rhys was yanked backwards through memories near the beginning of their crossing paths. Jack had used that exact hero metaphor in one of his lectures about trust…

Gazing coldly into Jack’s smug grin, Rhys still wasn’t completely convinced. 

As much as the whole situation led Rhys to believe this was the real Jack...some part of Rhys simply couldn’t accept this. He’d gone through so much grief, endured so much pain...and...that was all supposed to be fixed this easily? Just like that? Just like this? This all seemed too easy...It couldn’t be...it couldn’t–

“I can’t be sure,” Rhys stated coldly, eyebrows furrowed. Jack heaved an exasperated sigh and threw his hands loosely into the air.

“Oh come ON Rhysie! I thought you were smarter than this, dum-dum. Did you not pick up on the hero metaphor I threw in there two seconds ago? Seriously? It was right there. Don’t you remember we about the whole heroics thing months ag–you know what? Nevermind. Forget I said anything.” 

“Look–” Jack inched forwards cocking an eyebrow. Rhys held his ground and refused to step backwards, his metal fingers digging painfully into his other upper arm crossed across his chest. Jack leaned in, a smirk plastered across his features. 

“How would a fake me know to do this?” He murmured.

Rhys saw the entire thing unfold before him before it even happened. He could have prevented it all so easily, he could have taken the simple step backwards...but some inner thought kept him rooted firmly to the floor. As the familiar cool lips of Jack’s mask pressed against his, Rhys’s eyelids fluttered shut. He found himself lost in the comforting darkness and the relief of having Jack’s lips pressed against his. 

Eyes snapping open, Rhys quickly righted himself back to reality and stumbled back, lightly shoving Jack away with his flesh palm. He swiped a finger over his bottom lip and glowered at Jack, who straightened his collar while wearing his infuriating, signature charming grin. Jack chuckled and Rhys’s heartbeat roared in his ears. He had an instinctive gut feeling he knew...he  _ knew _ this was the real Jack. His Jack. The rush of joy Rhys always experienced with the familiarity of Jack’s lips against his, returned. 

“You…” Rhys murmured breathlessly, gazing up at Jack with wide eyes. His chest heaved and Rhys furiously swiped a hand across his eyes. He wouldn’t let the tears fall. Not now. 

“Me, kitten. Didn’t you hear me earlier? Handsome Jack is back!” Jack grinned, moving towards Rhys once more. Rhys let loose a strained chuckle. An unsteady grin spread cracked his features and he shook his head, feeling his throat clam up. 

“I–I just–I can’t–” Rhys managed, at a total loss for words. He just...he didn’t know...He was tired. He was so damn tired. He just wanted nothing more in the world except the feel of his arms around Jack again. And Jack was here, Jack was less than a step away. 

Jack leaned forwards but Rhys gently pressed his metal hand to his chest, lightly pushing him away. Jack visibly pouted, exasperation written in his eyes.

“Seriously? Was that not enough proof–”

“No–I...no I just...I can’t be sure. I need you to tell me something only the real Jack would know,” Rhys decided steadily, gazing into Jack’s eyes. Jack rolled his eyes and grinned. 

“Doing it classic style? Fine, fire away baby,” he smirked, tilting his head back to study Rhys with a brightly amused stare. Rhys thought for a moment before asking. 

“Alright. Let’s see...what was your first idea for Princess’s name?” Rhys offered, pointing a metal finger towards Jack. 

“Dick!” Jack did not hesitate to chime in. He grinned stupidly. Rhys snorted. 

Oh yeah, there was no mistaking it. This was his Jack alright. 

A warmth blossomed in his chest. His heart skipped a beat. Jack was back. The sadly familiar void in Rhys’s soul would finally be filled. Both a rush of adrenaline and pure unbridled joy blossomed in Rhys’s chest. Blinking back furious heated tears, he laughed and sprang forwards, wrapping his arms around Jack’s shoulders and furiously clutching at his back. He buried his face in the harsh fabric of Jack’s coat and inhaled, drinking in Jack’s familiar scent. 

He felt Jack’s arms envelope around his torso, tugging him closer. One of Jack’s hands moved upwards to clutch the back of Rhys’s head, running his fingers through Rhys’s gelled hair. The familiar touch was enough to send Rhys over the edge.

“I missed you, Rhys,” Jack murmured from his shoulder. Rhys lifted his flushed face from the collar of Jack’s coat. Cracking a smile, he admired the familiar, gorgeous depths of Jack’s gaze for a moment before leaning forwards and tugging Jack in for another kiss. A real one this time. Jack chuckled against his lips and Rhys squeezed his eyes shut, smothering Jack’s mouth, with no room to breath. Rhys’s hands moved to clutch the collar of Jack’s shirt, drawing him closer. 

He couldn’t get enough of this. He needed more of this...more of this to make up for all their lost time. 

Jack pulled away for a split second, gasping for air and grinning wildly. 

“So you aren’t even going to ask about my heroic journey back from deat–oomfph,”

“Just shut up,” Rhys hissed, fingers curling around the edges of Jack’s mask and yanking him forwards, dragging their lips together. Rhys was not about to let Jack leave again, even if he needed a moment of air. Rhys was going to enjoy every second of this. Jack’s hand was most definitely tangling Rhys’s slicked back hair into knots and at this point, Rhys couldn’t give a care in the world. Jack was here, Jack was in his arms, Jack was kissing him. And that was all that mattered. 

Pulling away, Rhys glared down into the depths of Jack’s gaze. Jack’s eyes were dazed, heavy lidded as a smirk played across his features. 

“What? You can’t go any lon–mmgohfukc–” 

Rhys pressed a messy kiss to his lips. 

“You–are–never–” he murmured furiously between kisses. 

“Leaving–me–like–that–again–!”

Jack chuckled, tracing a thumb along Rhys’s cheekbone. 

“Don’t worry yourself,” Jack murmured against Rhys’s lips. 

“–mmnot–planningon–it,” Jack hummed. Rhys broke away and bumped his forehead against Jack’s, feeling the comforting warmth curl between them. 

“I love you,” Rhys whispered, hands trailing down Jack’s jawline. Speaking those stupid words out loud for the first time was accompanied by a strange feeling but Rhys wanted to be certain he uttered them at least once. He hadn’t had the chance before Jack’s death. 

“I love you too,” Jack murmured. Hot streaks ran streamed down Rhys’s cheeks, against his will. He threw his arms around Jack’s neck and buried his face in Jack’s shoulder once more. 

“I missed you so goddamn much,” Rhys half choked out furiously. He rubbed his eyes and stubbornly refused to let any more waterworks fall. Clutching Jack tightly in his embrace, Rhys squeezed his eyes shut and held on for dear life. He clung to Jack in an almost desperate manner, half fearing Jack would disappear out from under him at any moment. 

He felt Jack lean into his embrace wholeheartedly and Rhys sighed contentedly. They stood in the center of the room, swaying ever so slightly in each others tight arms for a while longer. Just a while longer before Jack gently pulled away from a very reluctant Rhys. 

“It’s been a long day and I’m tired, hold on at least let me take my coat off,” Jack muttered, shrugging off his jacket and casting the coat aside. Breathing a sigh of relief, Jack turned back towards Rhys and smiled. Not some smug grin, but a real genuine smile. 

“Come here–” he started before Rhys crashed into him, planting another furious kiss on his lips. 

“Youare–notleaving–meHandsomeJack–you are not–leaving me–again,” Rhys managed out, fingers running through Jack’s wildly tousled hair. 

“Mmm...that sounds like it's in order...although you sound a little too demanding dontcha think, Rhysie?” Jack hissed, pressing back, fingers curled tightly at the edges of Rhys’s face. 

“Nahshutupand–comehere,” Rhys responded breathlessly, breaking their kiss for only a mere second to stumble onto the couch. Flopping down and lying along the length of the couch, Rhys dragged Jack down with him. Jack sort of fit between the couch and Rhys. Rhys intertwined their legs and wrapped his arms around Jack’s shoulders. Jack laid his cheek in the center of Rhys’s chest and promptly closed his eyes with a contented hum. Rhys’s head drooped and he buried his face in the top of Jack’s hair. Taking a deep inhale, he sighed, a warm fuzzy feeling blossoming in his chest and running the length of his body. 

“Hmmm yeah...now seems like a good time….so how  _ did _ you come back to life?” Rhys murmured, eyes fluttering shut as he drank in the fiery warmth of Jack’s very much alive aura. In his arms Jack hummed contentedly. 

“Some eridium power, my dna in a clone and a memory file,” he replied simply. Rhys scoffed. Of course Jack would go through with some harebrained plan like that. 

“Care to explain how that all worked?” Rhys asked, running a flesh hand through the wisps of Jack’s hair. 

“Mmm...scientists downstairs took the dna out of my old body...took like a week for a new one to grow...my joints are still a bit stiff,” Jack murmured. 

“Eridium has some weird life power stuff. Using some of that purple liquid stuff they were able to transfer the memory drive–” Jack paused for a moment. 

“Hold on, I never told you. I have a sort of cybernetic thingy in my head...y’know my marble eye under the mask? It’s kinda like your ECHOeye…except it only stores my memories and emotions and all that crap. As long as its not destroyed, it can be transferred from my dead body to a new one. Anyways, the nerds downstairs in the labs stuck that memory drive eye into my new body’s head and so I’m back to life and now I can get revenge and crush the windpipe of whoever killed me,” Jack murmured, finishing cheerfully. Rhys blinked before he chuckled, and wrapped Jack into a tighter embrace.

“That is a stupid unpredictable plan to bring yourself back. Damnit, you’re Handsome Jack. I should’ve you couldn’t stay dead,” he frowned affectionately, stroking Jack’s cheek.

“You know it baby, I’m the best.”

Suddenly the thought crossed Rhys’s mind. If Jack had a new body...did that mean he was free of the vault symbol carved into his face?

“So...hows the whole...face thing under your mask?” Rhys asked lightly. Jack shifted, and wriggled out of Rhys’s tight embrace. He sat up for a moment, glancing away and rubbing the back of his neck uncomfortably. 

“Still there...I was hoping it’d be gone when I woke up…” Jack muttered. 

“But it’s ingrained in my dna...it’s a friggin curse.”

He turned back towards Rhys, a half-hollow grin spreading across his expression. 

“Sorry to disappoint, pumpkin.”

Rhys shook his head, and pulled himself upright. He was not about to let Jack wallow in his own stupid insecurities. Rhys gingerly reached over with both his hands and traced the sharp, pale edges of Jack’s mask. Jack ground his jaw, gazing at him with the most hollow eyes Rhys had ever seen. Rhys brushed a thumb over the high cheekbones of his mask. 

“Stop looking at me like that. It’s just me here...it’s alright, I’ve seen you before,” Rhys murmured, a warm smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Jack’s expression lifted ever so slightly at Rhys’s words. With soft fingers, Rhys heard the snick of Jack’s mask clasps and he carefully lifted the hollow shape of Jack’s face free. Placing the cold mask on the coffee table, Rhys turned back to Jack. For a moment he studied the scar running over the bridge of Jack’s nose. The marring appeared to cut slightly less deep than before. There wasn’t a drastic improvement to the disfiguration of his face but there was slight progress.. 

“Handsome, I know,” Jack grinned, his sightless left eye gazing at Rhys with a twinge of genuine humor. 

“Come here,” Rhys murmured, pressing a kiss to the corner of Jack’s startlingly warm mouth. The shocking difference between the cool mask and the live, hot-blooded contact of real skin was astonishing. Rhys threw his arms around his neck once more and chuckled, bumping their foreheads together. 

“I love you so much,” Rhys muttered. Jack sighed and cupped the edges of Rhys’s face in his hands, pressing a kiss to his lips. Then he proceeded to nestle lopsidedly between Rhys and the couch. He threw his hands under Rhys’s shoulders and pressed his shockingly warm, marred face into the crook of Rhys’s neck. Hot breath curled across Rhys’s shoulder.

Rhys reached up and ruffled Jack’s hair, feeling his own eyelids begin to droop. Everything was warm. A fluttery sensation whirled and danced about with wild vigor in Rhys’s chest. He could almost happily feel himself drifting off, with Jack entangled around him. Everything was warm, everything was right. Jack was home. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jacks back and hes here to stay! Gee I hope nothing happens to them


	33. Chapter 33

They remained on the couch tangled together for a concerningly long period of time. Rhys had no desire to move. He just wanted to stay like this, to hold Jack in his arms forever. God he’d missed his partner so damn much. He wasn’t about to let go of this warm comforting embrace anytime soon. 

Jack also appeared at idle peace, right at home, face nestled in the crook of Rhys’s neck. As Rhys clung to one of Jack’s comically larger hands, he frowned. 

“Your wrist tattoo is gone,” he noted duly. Jack mumbled something along the lines of,

“Mmmyeahgotta get that redone sometime...buthas not important.”

The faint purple rays of light filtering from space outside the bay window shone over the pair of them, highlighting wisps of Jack’s hair in a gorgeous, translucent lilac hue.

Rhys closed his eyes and leaned his head back, a feeling of relaxation seeping into his muscles. He hadn’t felt such overwhelming tranquility in weeks. His thoughts were silent and his hands were steady. He could breathe freely without constraint from upset, rattling lungs. He felt an odd sense of freedom and a mixture of joy coursing through his veins. He loved every second of this. 

They remained lopsidedly basking in each other’s warmth on the couch for a few minutes longer until Jack finally stirred, slowly raising his head and pushing himself upright to sit on the edge of the couch. His hair was a flustered mess. He ran a hand through it’s rough tangles and stretched. 

“I haven’t had any real food in weeks,” he yawned. Rhys followed suit, sitting up and swinging his feet off the couch, a warm smile still playing across his features. 

“Yeah, well that’s what you get for dying on me, dumbass,” he chuckled lightly. Jack scowled, bumping his shoulder. 

“Hey! Watch your tone–”

“Yeah–yeah who cares. I know you love it–and don’t even deny it–you can’t hide behind a mask now, I can see you’re blushing–” Rhys pointed out with a sly, triumphant grin. Jack growled and shot to his feet, a very obvious distracting flush curling around the edges of his marred cheeks.

“No! No–that’s not true–hey stop looking at me like that–no–you don’t get to win this you–I...I–” Jack stuttered for a moment, glaring at Rhys still situated on the couch. Rhys’s smug grin grew wider. He gazed up at Jack, with very confident knowledge he’d won.

“What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue?” He smirked, quirking an eyebrow. Jack flushed brighter. He quickly whirled around. 

“Just shut the hell up and make me some friggin’ food,” he growled, stomping past Rhys in a furious storm. With a loud burst of laughter, Rhys swung to his feet and popped his knuckles. As Jack settled down at the table in front of the bay window, Rhys paused. 

“Ravioli sound good?” He asked, grinning. Jack leaned back in the chair, his vault brand glowing a pale violent under the bay window lights. 

“Yeah, just like old times,” he nodded, smiling. 

“Just like old times…” Rhys murmured, flashing Jack a wink. He watched with satisfaction as Jack furiously flushed brighter. Laughing, Rhys spun on a heel and sauntered into the kitchen. He shrugged off his coat and vest, tossing them onto an unused counter. Without the restraints of his work clothes, he inhaled a deep breath of fresh air and sighed. He hadn’t been able to breath under all those friggin layers. 

Rolling up the sleeves of his black collared shirt, Rhys quickly went to work. As he ambled around in the kitchen, a sense of drowsiness began to creep over his senses. He sighed, watching the boiling bubbles of water. He was suddenly beginning to feel overwhelmed by this drowning wave of such intense emotions. He rubbed his temple with a metal hand and suppressed a groan. Everything was emotionally draining...all of this–this was almost too much for him to handle at once. 

But that didn’t matter. All that mattered was Jack’s return. He was alive and well and that was all Rhys truly cared about.

—————-

Rhys quickly wrapped up his ravioli creation and joined Jack in the living room. He flopped down into the chair opposite Jack at the table propped against the bay window. Sliding a plate of ravioli across the table to Jack, Rhys settled into his own portion of food. However, he wasn't particularly hungry and he couldn’t bring himself to eat. He just tired and not in the mood. Too many thoughts and feelings rushed through his head, displacing his usual appetite. Gingerly, he quietly picked at the edges of his pasta with his fork.

Jack on the other hand was ecstatic over the prospect of a real meal since his untimely death. 

“Oh yeah, just as good as I remember,” he mumbled, face full of food. 

“Damn I missed this,” he sighed woefully, swallowing and producing his silver flask from a hidden pocket. 

Realizing his appetite wasn’t planning to return any time soon, Rhys nudged his own plate away from the table edge. He placed a metal elbow on the table surface, quietly resting his chin in the palm of his cybernetic fingers. He gazed off into space, just above Jack’s right shoulder, sightlessly enamored in thought. 

His thoughts were mostly warm...cozy...positive...but there was still one annoying thing nagging the back of Rhys’s mind. He was badgered relentlessly by a question he was dying to ask. Eyes flickering back to Jack, Rhys slowly opened his mouth. 

“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming back?” He started simply, drumming his fingers on his chin. Jack paused with a frown. 

“I mean–I was  _ dead.  _ Even for me, it’s kinda hard to get messages through when you’re trapped in eternal darkness inside your own head,” Jack pointed out in all fairness, taking a quick swig of his flask. 

“No–I mean why didn’t you tell me you had a backup plan,  _ before  _ you died?” Rhys drily clarified, a little too nonchalantly. Nakayama’s words were surfacing his thoughts. And not in a good way.

_ If Jack didn’t tell you that means he doesn’t trust you.  _

_ _ Despite Rhys convincing himself Nakayama was just a bit of an oddity and his rude phrasing may have been a usual manner of speaking, his words had really struck Rhys with a resounding negative chord. 

Jack shrugged at Rhys’s dry inquisition. 

“I didn’t tell you ‘cause the less people who knew the better. Besides, I thought I hinted I’d be back in that video I had you play...You should’ve had some more faith in me, sugar. I am Handsome Jack after all,” Jack answered tilting his head and regarding Rhys with a light curious expression. Rhys scowled. 

“Well it’s kinda hard when you’re  _ not trusted  _ with crucial information,” he muttered darkly, drumming his metal fingertips along his cheek. Picking up Rhys’s words, Jack suddenly straightened up and leaned forwards, a serious edge falling over his composure. 

“What’s this about?” He questioned, tone heavy yet also light, making sure to tread carefully. Now was Rhys’s turn to sit back and bite the inside of his cheek. Crossing his legs under the table, he leaned backwards, folding his hands in his lap as he was overcome with a sudden wave of discomfort. 

“It’s nothing. Nevermind,” he stated simply, closing the discussion. Jack frowned. 

“C’mon, Rhysie–”

“Fine. Look, when I brought that little piece of metal down to Nakayama–what was that by the way?–”

“Key to my memory bank.”

“–ah, okay. Well when I gave it to Nakayama and asked what the hell it was he told me, ‘if Jack didn’t tell you already that means he didn’t trust you,” Rhys spilled out simply. His hands fidgeted in his lap. A dark expression cast over Jacks features. 

“That sunofa–” he growled, before composing himself, quickly turning his expression passive. 

“What I told him was to keep it from you until after I’d died–GAH! Friggin’ idiot, he must’ve turned it into his own words. Can’t trust the goddamn obsessed fanboys these days,” Jack’s composure snapped and he growled, rubbing a hand along his forehead. 

“Look, I’m sorry about that. I do trust you, Rhys, I do. It’s just–the less people involved with...delicate projects like my death...the better...Well, you know how it is, Don’t you? You’ve been CEO for a week or two, you know how savage it gets. People constantly coming for your throat–I’d kept my whole resurrection project a secret for at least a decade...I’m protecting myself, you know?” Jack ran, his rushed explanation quickly tumbling out. There was a pleading edge to his tone. The depths of his gaze swirled with genuine apology. 

Rhys sighed. Jack did have a fair and reasonable point. The less people who knew about something so crucial the better. Actually...Jack’s whole point made sense. However Rhys was still a tad miffed about Jack dying and not bothering to tell him he’d be back later. 

“Fine. I get it. I understand. But next time, you  _ tell  _ me these things, so I don’t break the fuck down when you up and die on me,” Rhys demanded, pointing a metal finger at Jack and narrowing his eyes. 

“If you don’t tell me about other minor details in the future like–oh I don’t know–that you’re only dead temporarily, I will personally kick your ass,” Rhys growled, a certain lighthearted sparkle in his eye.

He forgave Jack. Feeling the tension between them lessen, Jack cracked a grin. 

“Aww, I thought coming back unannounced was a great surprise!”

Rhys clenched his jaw, smile dropping from his expression like stone. He felt an unexpected swell of irritation.

Ah. So that’s what Jack thought of his whole unannounced...return. Just a nice happy surprise...huh? There hadn’t been suffering, ‘cause it was all one happy surprise. It’s not like...Rhys had been crushed into an overwhelming pit of guilt...or despair...or grief…Oh no...nothing of the sort. Rhys hadn’t  _ suffered  _ because Jack was just  _ fooling around  _ and  _ dying for a second _ and leaving Rhys all  _ alone  _ with the sins of his  _ guilt.  _ None of that right? ‘Cause Handsome Jack’s resurrection was just a  _ great surprise.  _

The tension between them strummed the air once more. Rhys crossed his arms, expression darkening. 

“No it wasn’t a  _ nice surprise _ ,” he growled, irritation sparking in his gut. Jack opened his mouth to respond but Rhys loudly spoke over his reply.

“I don’t think you have  _ any  _ idea what you put me through after your ‘ _ death’, _ ” he growled, regarding Jack with an irritated, fiery glare. Jack leaned back, brushing a finger over his chin clasp.

“W–“

“–You have no idea what it was like, how much  _ guilt _ and  _ grief  _ you put me through. You–you utterly destroyed me. And all for what? All you’re gonna say is ‘ _ oh great surprise I’m back’ _ and pretend like nothing happened?” Rhys hissed, anger boiling in his veins. Feeling his emotions begin to spiral out of control he caught himself and forced several deep calming breaths. The metal fingers of his cybernetic arm dug into his thigh in a painful pinch as he willed himself to cool off, and return to reality clarity. He glared at Jack, still awaiting a response. Jack blinked for a moment before speaking. 

“Huh...well frankly I didn’t think you’d freak out too much over it...after all this is the cutthroat corporate world...I–I honestly thought you might’ve just moved on…–“

That stung. As Rhys missed the wavering note in Jack’s tone, he furiously rubbed his forehead. Jack was really pushing all the wrong buttons in all the right places.

“So that’s what you would’ve done? If I died, you’d just  _ move  _ on?” Rhys offered, tone flat. 

“What? No. That’s not what I said–I–hey why do you think I refused to let you come with me to Pandora that day? Because I wanted to protect you. I wouldn’t have been able to cope with myself if someone else I was close to got killed by my actions. I couldn’t–That’s why I made you stay behind because I wouldn’t be able to handle myself if you were killed, especially on my watch!” Jack exclaimed, sitting forwards. Rhys wasn’t having any of his explanation.

“Oh, so you were only thinking of yourself and protecting your own feelings. I should’ve seen that one coming,” Rhys growled, crossing his arms. Jack’s scar glittered in the faint light from outside the window. 

“No, I–“

“You’re either selfish and a goddamn _ dick _ , or an incredibly blind  _ idiot _ who can’t see anyone or anything but  _ yourself!”  _ Rhys retorted, sitting forwards, his fingers clutching the edges of his seat. His mind was racing with all sorts of emotions. Anger...grief...frustration. In his head, Rhys was hard at work stringing thoughts and emotions together as he puzzled over Jack’s blatant idiocy.

“Or–” he continued, raising a hand.

“You have no clue about anything at all. How long has it been since someone has genuinely cared for you, huh? How fucking long?”

“Alright, alright now  _ that’s _ crossing a line,” Jack growled, instantly shooting to his feet. His fists were tightly balled. Rhys had accidentally intentionally struck a serious nerve. 

“No! You don’t get to go anywhere, asshole, you don’t get to get up and run away from this,” Rhys bounced to his feet in suit.

“Honestly, I don’t actually care about how long it’s been for you, that’s not the point. The moral is, you’re a fucking  _ idiot _ that can’t comprehend the simple fact that  _ someone does fucking care if you die.  _ And that someone is  _ me, _ ” Rhys seethed with anger, he was bristling. Jack blinked, both offended and caught off guard by Rhys’s words. A scowl still resided in his expression. His vault scar rippled across his features with every facial twinge. 

“Listen, you. I don’t want to hear a word more, you understand? Look I’m tired, I’m going to bed–“

“Like hell you are, dickbag. I’m the only one here and you’re not gonna hide from me, Jack. I know you. I’m not gonna let you run from this, from  _ me _ ,” Rhys interrupted, taking a step forward. Jack paused, a dark look twisting across his expression. He crossed his arms and bathed Rhys in a mixtured glare of annoyance and a surprising sliver of hurt. 

“You can’t stop me, and I’m not  _ running. _ I’m tired. It’s late. Why does this matter so much anyways? You’re not the type to get angry over these kinda things,” Jack retorted, tone low. He was clearly struggling to keep his voice level, fists clenched tightly at his sides.

“It matters to me because I actually care about you, asshole,” Rhys hissed, stealing another bold stride forwards. The two angry men were mere feet apart now and Rhys was bristling. He jabbed the tip of his metal pointer finger directly into Jack’s chest, eyes narrow. 

“I just–I can’t understand you. Why– _ Why  _ didn’t you just tell me about this whole resurrection thing?–” he huffed.

_ It would have saved me a week's worth of self deprecating guilty thoughts and crippling grief,  _ Rhys wanted to spit out but he restrained himself.

“If you knew about something like that, you’d automatically be in danger, idiot. I did it to protect you!” Jack snarled. Rhys’s barely registered the collar of his black shirt tightly wound in Jack’s fist. Rhys’s mind was too hazed with fury. All he could process through his cloudy gaze was Jack and Jack directly just beyond his nose. Rhys opened his mouth to spit out a retort.

“I can handle myself just fine, I don’t  _ need  _ your protection. So why the  _ hell _ –”

“–Because I care about you too, asshole, did you ever stop and think about that, huh?” Jack echoed furiously. His eyes were terribly ablaze. The ironlike vice of his fingers tightened around the fabric of Rhys’s collar. The red haze of Rhys’s vision hadn’t lifted. He glared evenly into Jack’s eyes with anger, an equal glowering scowl twisted into the corners of his mouth. A moment of silence passed over the two of them, the quiet seconds slipping past. Each one could practically feel the other’s radiating frustration. 

At last the silence was broken–

“Yeah? Really? Are you sure about that?–” Rhys growled, inching closer into Jack’s grip. The red haze around his vision hadn’t ceased. 

“I’m pretty friggin’ sure, cupcake,” Jack glowered down at him, teeth flashing in a snarky grin. A different kind of seething flickered in his eyes.

“Yeah are you really sure? ‘Cause I’m gonna show you what that’s like,” Rhys snarled. He crashed into Jack just as Jack yanked him forwards by the collar of his shirt. Fingers gripping the edges of Jack’s face, Rhys smashed their lips together in a haze of anger and passion. Jack stumbled backwards at Rhys’s force, hands buried tightly in the back of Rhys’s tousled hair.

Rhys could barely breathe. He was too focused on his intent. He was angry, he was confused and he was tired. He missed this friggin’ jackass. 

As Jack’s shoulder blades stumbled into the cold bay window, he hungrily pushed back into the kiss, fingers trailing down to Rhys’s collarbone. And Rhys was having none of it. He grabbed a firm hold of Jack’s hands and pried the rough fingers off his neck, instead pinning Jack’s wrist to the freezing window surface with one swift movement. Breaking the kiss, Rhys instead glared haughtily into Jack’s smug expression. Their foreheads were close enough to touch.

“Oh? Is this how it’s gonna be?” Jack grinned, chest heaving as he was pinned against the cold glass. He seemed more than okay with this whole thing. In fact, the fucker seemed to be enjoying this whole ordeal. Rhys released his grip on Jack’s wrists, letting him up and taking a half step backwards with a scowl. Rubbing his wrists, Jack visibly pouted, stray locks of disheveled hair falling into his eyes. He tilted his head to the side with a sullen look. 

“Awwhh are you not–woah!”

Rhys seized the shoulder strap of Jack’s vest and whirled around.

“Come on,” he growled, yanking Jack forwards, and pulling him towards the bedroom. 

“I’m coming! I’m coming jeez you don’t have to pull so hard–not complaining cause it’s hot–but for the love of god I’m fragile piece of beauty I literally died last week–“

—————

Rhys’s eyes fluttered awake at some ungodly hour in the morning. Well actually, the time was only six thirty which wasn’t considerably early but struck Rhys as peculiar since he was usually awake sometime around eight. 

Blearily, his surroundings rightened as he groggily sat upright in almost a trance as he rubbed his eyes furiously. Feeling an unusual slight draft, Rhys glanced down to find he was bare-chested. Ah. Right. The previous day’s events shot through his head and panic suddenly flooded him. Had all that really happened? Did...did Jack really return from the dead? And did the two of them…?

Glancing around Rhys was indeed reassured everything that had happened was most definitely  _ not  _ a dream, thank fucking god. He recognized the room as Jack’s bedroom which meant he was in Jack’s bed. This was good. Well, at least Rhys hoped this was good. 

Rhys raised his metal fingers and rubbed his forehead with a slight groan. He could still hardly believe that his wildest dreams had come true...Jack had returned from death. What happened last night had all been very real. Rhys had feared Jack’s return had been nothing but a fantastical dream. Thankfully, this was not the case. Quietly glancing to his right he was greeted by an amusing morning sight.

Jack was still fast asleep, facing Rhys with his left cheek buried in the pillow. His hair was an utter disaster, splayed and sticking out every which way. Frazzled locks fluttered over his face, brushing the edges of his vault marring. Dark warm light from the window on the other end of the bedroom washed in, dousing his features in a most peculiar morning glow. 

A light smile played across Rhys’s expression. He couldn’t help himself. The ability to wake up beside Jack was one previously thought lost. Yet here they were in an oddly domestic situation now that Jack had returned...Jack was home and Rhys could live again. 

Jack appeared to be in a deep slumber but as Rhys quietly shifted to slip out of bed he groaned, eyes opening into bleary slits. 

“Urgh–what time is it?” He grunted, stirring and raising his head off the pillow by an inch. 

“A little after six-thirty,” Rhys replied quietly, spying his clothes in a rumpled heap on the floor a few feet away. He quickly slipped out from under the covers and shivered as he tugged on his pants, the room was considerably chilly. His metal arm was highly susceptible to freezing temperatures. So lucky him, his steel was an uncomfortable freezing block of friggin’ ice. 

“Whysh so early…” Jack mumbled inaudibly from behind Rhys, his head flopping back down into his pillow.

“I don’t know but it’s cold,” Rhys yawned. He turned back to the warm bed, rubbing his arms. Why was this goddamn room so cold?

Flopping back into bed, he hurriedly returned under the covers, back to the comfortable heat. 

“Why’s your room cold?” Rhys muttered, rolling over and burying his face into the pillow with a sigh.

“Fuckin’...forgot the heat…” Jack mumbled. He raised his head sleepily.

“AGIS! Turn on the heat for fucks sake!” Jack grunted. Rhys heard an audible tick as AGIS kickstarted the heaters on Jack’s demands. The room was still considerably cold and Rhys was quite comfortable under the safety of the warm covers. The heaters in the room couldn’t warm the room fast enough. Oh well, at least the bed was warm. Unfortunately that didn’t last very long.

His eyes had just fluttered closed and he was about to drift off into a very nice sleep thank you very much when suddenly he was jolted awake as freezing air washed across his chest. He was immediately awake at the shock of the freezing cold

“Oh come  _ on, _ “ he exclaimed, bolting upright. He glared over at Jack who had promptly stolen all of the covers and turned away, rolling all of the blankets around him in the process. His arms were completely pinned to his body, inside his new cocoon.

“I’m freezing my tits off in this room for fucks sake!” Rhys scowled, crossing his arms over his chest, suppressing a shiver.

“Mmnot my problem,” Jack grunted from inside his burrito of blankets on the other side of the bed. 

“What do you mean–! You know what? Nevermind. Can I have at least one back?”

“No, I'm comfortable thanks,” Jack mumbled, pleased with himself. 

“Alright jackass. I have a freezing metal arm so I’m coming over there and I’m gonna put my fucking icicle hand on your goddamn chest–” Rhys proclaimed, scooting over to Jack’s space. This fucker was not going to lay here all  _ comfortable  _ and  _ warm  _ while Rhys was stuck freezing his goddamn ass off! 

Grabbing the general area of where Jack’s shoulders should be located under the thick layers of blanket, Rhys practically shook the man to death trying to roll him over and face his less-than-happy very-cold partner. As Rhys made yet another fruitless attempt, Jack snorted in amusement before resisting Rhys’s case once more.

“Just give up already,” Jack grumbled lightly. He was being a goddamn prick and Rhys was having none of this. He seized Jack’s shoulders once more and applied a bit more force this time, wrenching him to roll over. Jack finally accepted his fate and rolled over meeting Rhys’s stubborn glare. He grinned cheekishly with a strangely smug morning grin. He made an odd twisting movement for a moment before Rhys spied the shiny tip of a pistol poking out of the layered blankets pointing at him. Between Jack’s disheveled morning hair and the fact he was bundled up in a fuck ton of blankets, the mundane threat came off more amusing than threatening. Rhys rolled his eyes. 

“Wow. Real mature, Jack.”

He couldn’t even find a single fuck to bother asking where the pistol had come from. Jack’s eyebrows furrowed into a light scowl. 

“Fuck off, these blankets are mine, go find your own,” he growled, a sparkle of amusement twinkling in his eye. 

“You're a dick,” Rhys squinted his eyes, glowering at Jack’s smug expression. 

“Fine. I’m gonna leave you here all alone while I make myself coffee. But first I’m gonna take one of your fuck-ton of Hyperion sweaters,” he proclaimed, scowling. Jack was about to open his mouth and make a retort but Rhys reached out with metal fingers and aggressively ruffled Jack’s wildly tangled hair, disheveling it further beyond oblivion. He swiftly leaned over and planted a kiss on Jack’s bemused forehead before giving his cheek a firm pat with a freezing metal hand. 

“Come find me for breakfast when you aren’t being a jackass,” Rhys smiled sweetly. 

“Bitch!” Jack retorted rolling back over to face the other side of the bed. 

“Asshole!” Rhys snorted, turning away and sliding off the warm mattress. Cold air washed over his bare skin and he shivered. Spying one of Jack’s wardrobe drawers half open with a familiar yellow Hyperion sleeve hanging out, he snagged the sweatshirt and quickly tugged on the heavy fabric. Damn, these sweaters were really something else ‘cause godDAMN were they comfortable. This sweater in particular seemed more comfortable than others, although that was probably because it was one of Jack’s. 

Ambling out of the bedroom, Rhys ambled down the hall and entered the darkened living room. 

“Can you turn the lights on?” Rhys yawned, addressing AGIS. The AI complied with his request and soft morning lights flickered on around the penthouse. Rubbing his eyes, Rhys moved to the kitchen, digging out a coffee pot from some hidden cabinet. Setting a pot full of water on the stove, he set the heat on high. 

As he patiently waited for the water to boil, Rhys traipsed about the apartment, cleaning up the table from the previous night and tidying the cooking mess in the kitchen. After completing these morning tasks, Rhys returned to the now-boiling coffee pot and poured himself a mug. He rubbed his eyes, taking a sip. Coffee was a more-than adequate wakeup tool. 

Pouring a second mug for Jack, Rhys gathered up both warm drinks from the kitchen counter and placed them lightly on the table by the window. The sound of footsteps gradually rose behind him and Rhys whirled around to find Jack leaning against the doorframe from the hallway. He too was wearing matching yellow sweatpants and a sweatshirt like Rhys. His hair was still a wreck and he squinted sleepily, his scar rippling across his nose.

“Good morning handsome,” Rhys addressed him cheerfully. Jack reached up and made a lame attempt to tame the disheveled birds nest of his hair. 

“‘Morning,” he replied pleasantly, striding into the room. 

“Is that for me?” He asked, gesturing to the mugs of coffee resting on the counter. He then plucked one of the cups from the table as Rhys nodded. 

“Thanks, sugar,” he grinned, taking a sip. Yawning, he settled down at the table. Rhys slid into the chair across from him. 

“Shit, it’s early. Why are we up this early, again?” Jack grumbled, furiously blinking back sleepiness, rubbing the bridge of his nose and being careful to avoid his scar. Rhys shrugged, already feeling properly awake. The combination of his ECHOeye implant and the coffee did wonders for his psyche in the morning. 

“I don’t know but it’s nice being up early, we can take some time together before heading down to work,” Rhys shrugged, taking a long drag of his warm coffee. He was feeling quite comfortable and unusually warm. A combination of heat seeping through his fingertips from the coffee mug and a warm sensation blossoming in his chest from Jack simply existing again melted into Rhys’s very bones. 

Jack visibly perked up at the notion of heading down to work. 

“Work! I almost forgot about that! Oh man, it’ll be  _ great _ to get back to work and whip everyone back in shape. And the moonshot? I’ve missed that baby all hell,” he grinned excitedly. Then he chuckled, lifting his coffee mug for a sip.

“It’s gonna be friggin’ hilarious to see all those executive fucks faces when they see me alive and kickin’.”

A light smile touched the corners of Rhys mouth as he witnessed Jack’s excitement. The comfortable warmth settling heavy in his bones was a clear indication Rhys was more than pleased to have his partner back. 

“And what am I gonna do? Am I going back to getting you coffee every morning?” Rhys asked, raising an eyebrow. Jack nodded. 

“Yep but only the coffee thing. I don’t want you as a PA anymore, I want you by my side,” he proclaimed. 

“You know I’m always by your side as PA anyways?” 

“Nah, that’s not the same. You’re not important as some PA y’know? I was thinking more along the lines of...co-CEO. After all, I woke up a day ago to find Hyperion up and running better than ever with you in charge, so it’d be a shame to kick you off to PA status again,” Jack stifled another yawn with a large gulp of coffee before setting the mug on the table with a dull thud. Rhys blinked, processing Jack’s words. 

Being CEO for the short time he was, Rhys had wholly enjoyed the challenging job. Sure, running an entire billion dollar company had its ups and downs but the work was incredible. Rhys had never been regarded with such importance in a workplace in his life. Nothing could compare to being in charge of everyone all the time or the startling, widespread recognition of everyone knowing his name…

In short, being Hyperion’s CEO turned out to be everything Rhys had ever wanted. His position as CEO had fulfilled every dream of power and recognition he’d fantasized, his ambitions were chock full. Rhys’s only desire in life was to carve a name for himself, be known, gain recognition. 

Oh how he’d love to pay a visit to his past self and chortle about how high and mighty he was now!

But through the few weeks Rhys had been in charge...he’d been blatantly missing something. Or to be more specific: someone. That special someone had been Jack...and now that Jack was alive and breathing again…sitting across from Rhys and happily sipping his coffee, everything was perfect. Everything felt balanced and Rhys knew exactly where he belonged. 

“Yeah, co-CEO sounds fitting,” Rhys grinned accepting Jack’s offer, draining the dregs of his coffee and slamming his mug down on the table with a clunk.

“So what do you say we run Hyperion together, my co-partner?” Jack offered, leaning back and tilting his head sideways. 

“Do I get a raise?” Rhys asked, blatant amusement dancing in his tone. 

“Well I mean, you’ve been CEO of a trillion dollar company for the past week or whatever, so not really, unless you count my handsome ass being alive as a raise–which you should,” Jack insisted, pointing a finger across the table. Rhys snorted. 

“Sounds like a fair deal, I’m in,” he decided. 

“Let’s run this show together,” Jack agreed, grinning. 

“Alright, well we’d better get to work then,” Rhys proclaimed. He was preparing to push out his chair when Jack spoke. 

“Hold on, wait stay there–I have something for you–” 

Rhys paused, eyebrow raised curiously as Jack tossed a small shiny object in his direction. Rhys swiftly caught the shiny item with a clean swipe of his cybernetic hand. Glancing down into his metal palm, he found Jack’s pointer-finger ring between his metal fingers. The ring was a little bulky, silver with an electric blue square set in the center. 

“Take it. Think of it as a token from me. Also it’s a spare key to all sorts of Hyperion secrets even I haven’t told you,” Jack grinned. Rhys glanced down at the token, before sliding the ring onto his own flesh pointer-finger. The silver ring was a snug fit but in all honesty Rhys enjoyed the looks of the thing. 

Glancing up, he cast Jack a dry look. 

“Didn’t we have a whole conversation about you keeping secrets from me last night?”

Jack waved a hand, rolling his one blue eye. 

“Nah nah, it doesn't have any major secrets on it. It’s a key for certain eridium storage stuff and other things. Also, a key to the Handsome Jackpot among other things,” he shrugged. 

“Thank god, I was worried we’d have to go through last night again.”

“Don’t tempt me, kitten.”

“We’ll see about that. Thank you, though,” Rhys grinned in Jack’s direction. He pushed out his chair and clambered to his feet, half admiring the new shiny metal resting on his finger. Jack mirrored his movements and stood, collecting both of their now-empty coffee mugs. 

“We oughta get going, exciting new day today, sugar!” He decided. Rhys nodded in agreement, leaning over and pressing a fleeting kiss to the marred skin of Jack’s cheek. Jack hummed contentedly as Rhys squeezed his hand. 

“Sounds good, Mr. Hyperion,” Rhys agreed before Jack brushed past him. He moved towards the kitchen with a loud, genuine laugh. 

“Likewise, Mr. Hyperion! We’re gonna be living like kings together, baby!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cant believe theres only 4 chapters left to publish I'm hhhhhhrrrgnn this feels like a fever dream


	34. Chapter 34

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have decided since jack’s canon height is 5’11 I am going to go with the fanon Rhys being 6’1. I thibk earlier in this story Jack’s described as taller than Rhys but forget I ever put that detail in there

Not a few minutes later, they’d returned to the bedroom in order to prepare for the day ahead. Rhys swiftly dressed himself in his black getup, neatly straightening out the pitch black collar of his jacket. Behind him, Jack slung his coat over his shoulder, readjusting the clasps of his mask and fastening the faux layer of skin over his scar. Spinning around on a heel, Rhys observed that the mask had restored his green eye. 

“Alright, ready to go,” Jack proclaimed, slinging his jacket around his shoulders with one smooth movement. He then dramatically noted Rhys’s sleek dark outfit with rather wide eyes. 

“Y’know I’m pretty sure I made it a law that it was illegal for anyone to look better than me,” he noted duly, gesturing to Rhys with an incredulous hand. 

“Yeah, you did. It was three years ago.”

“How in hell do you remember that?”

“I’m not just anyone, am I?” Rhys smirked, stepping forwards and offering out an arm. Jack swooped under his arm and wrapped his own hand around Rhys’s waist. 

“Yep! You are better than anyone else here and you know it,” Jack grinned, tugging him closer. Rhys laughed as they exited the room and strode towards the elevator, which was already inviting them in with open doors. Rhys snagged his pistol off the coffee table on their way past through the living room. 

Stepping into the elevator, Rhys’s head bumped against Jack’s shoulder as the doors slid closed. So this was it, huh? This was everything he ever wanted. He was a CEO of the richest company in the galaxy and Jack was right here, right by his side. 

“Are you gonna make another one of those live broadcasts saying you’re back?” Rhys asked as the elevator shifted into descent. 

“You know me too well, Rhysie,” Jack replied fondly.

“Right, well you better mention me in it, otherwise I’ll have to make my own,” Rhys laughed. Jack rolled his eyes. 

“Yeah yeah, I know. Hey, by the way, I forgot to ask. Were there any executives at any meetings you attended while I was away that were particularly terrible?” He queried lightly and a little too nonchalantly. Rhys glanced at him suspiciously. 

“Why?”

“Oh...you know...I kinda wanna try out a couple of my pistols again. After all, technically I haven’t killed anyone yet!”

Rhys snorted, thinking back to various meetings in the past week or so. He mildly scrunched up his face in thought. 

“Yeah...yeah you know there _ were _ a couple fuckers that gave me hell….you know what? Give me a minute to pull up their names and you have attem’–”

Rhys’s morals may have lead to Rhys possessing a teensy bit more acceptable and forgiving psyche than Jack, but that’s not to say Rhys’s moral decisions landed anywhere near a valid point. Quite frankly, his moral compass was pretty royally screwed. A perfect example of Rhys’s questionable line of thinking was Rhys’s decision to give names of a few annoying executives to Jack not a minute prior. You see, Rhys had decided, 

_ Eh...I’ll let Jack have some fun...he’s been dead after all. _

Not only was Rhys most definitely an inherently bad person for allowing a couple of poor executives to be put in the crosshairs of Jack’s bloody amusement but he’d also preferred the role of bystander and the cleanliness of his own hands. Rhys would leave the killing and bloodshed to Handsome Jack but Rhys would also partake in encouragement and bystanding on the sidelines as a supportive witness. 

Grinning, Jack patted Rhys’s shoulder.

“I’ll be sure to take care of them for you,” he assured Rhys with a dry chuckle. 

“Thanks, handsome.”

“What’s with the new nickname, huh, sugar?”

“Eh, I dunno. It’s just fun to use your first name cause seriously, what kind of first name is handsome?” Rhys snorted. Jack reached over and flicked his forehead.

“Ow!”

“Yeah? Well what the hell kind of a name is Rhys? Four letters, no vowels. Who in their right mind looks at a kid and goes “Yeah, yeah I’m gonna name this one _ Rhys _ . _ Rhree? _ It even sounds whiny. It doesn’t sound nice,” Jack retorted. 

“Really? Cause last night you seemed to really love it. ” Rhys raised an eyebrow. 

“You...you little shit!” Jack stuttered. His mask hid the bright red flush of his cheeks. Rhys laughed as the elevator doors slid open and he leapt out into the office and danced away from Jack’s bristling form.

“Get back here! I’m gonna kill you for that!” 

“Yeah? Well then come and get me, _ handsome _,” Rhys challenged with a grin. He hopped up the steps and rounded the opposite side of the raised desk. Jack skidded to a halt before the steps and glared up at him furiously. 

“Stop running and get your ass back down here, I’m only gonna ask once,” he placed his hands on his hips, mask glowering. 

“Really? I remember you asking for it _ way _ more than once last n–“ Rhys’s shit-eating grin broke off in an alarmed yelp as Jack suddenly smacked the pocket watch fastened to his coat and promptly vanished into thin air. Ah, so that’s what that little trinket did, the pocket watch was a goddamn cloaking device. Realizing he was now facing a more challenging invisible opponent, Rhys took a half-step backwards, arms out for balance, squinting furiously at the now-empty office. 

“Come on out,” he challenged, an edge to his tone. Rhys heard the creak of wood behind him. He whirled around just in time to witness Jack to hazily materialize from the background. He lunged forwards and seized the collar of Rhys’s shirt. 

“Come here, you,” Jack growled, other hand slipping around Rhys’s waist. Rhys grinned and threw his elbows over Jack’s shoulders, pulling him closer. Jack gave a low chuckle and leaned into Rhys’s embrace. A smile still gracing his features, Rhys tilted his chin upwards and was about to press a kiss to the cool lips of Jack’s mask when–

The unmistakable noise of the office doors from far across the room sliding open reached Rhys’s ears. Fuck. He sprang backwards, detaching himself from Jack who in turn roughly shoved him away. Rhys stumbled, straightening up and hastily smoothing out the rumpled collar of his jacket. Jack stood with a firm aggressive stance, arms crossed and glowering as he glared across the room. 

Rhys tried to calm down the hot flush across his cheeks as he glanced over to observe their interuptee. 

Upon seeing who was tentatively lingering in the doorframe, Rhys felt a flood of relief. The intruder was only Meg standing in the threshold. She’d completely frozen in the doorway, eyes wide at the scene she’d witnessed. 

“I...I uh–I was coming in...to uh– see what...was uh...going on because of the whole...event yesterday...also to drop off...some uh–papers,” she managed out a stuttering excuse while holding up a couple documents in one hand as proof.

“I–Did...I...Have I been missing something between you two?” she asked suddenly, eyeing them suspiciously. 

“Absolutely not.”

“Yeah.”

Rhys and Jack glared in unison at them for a moment. The two broke eye contact when Jack forfeited the staring contest and sighed, waving a lame hand in Rhys’s direction. 

“Fine. You win. Tell her,” he grumbled, spinning on his heels, trodding up and around behind his desk. 

“Uh...yeah. We’re kindofa...thing,” Rhys explained lamely as Jack settled into his chair. Behind Rhys, he snorted. 

“You’re still shit at words as ever!”

“Yeah? Then you tell her!”

“Fine,” Jack smiled smugly and folded his hands on the desk. 

“Rhys is my new co-CEO,” he explained. 

“And we’re also together,” Rhys chimed in helpfully. Confusion hailed Meg’s expression. 

“Right. So–please don’t shoot me if I’m misinterpreting this–you’re–you’re–”

“–Fucking,” Jack finished her sentence in confirmation. Rhys smacked his flesh hand over his face in a painfully exasperated thwap. 

“Jack. No. That’s not–”

“Whatddya’ mean? It’s the truth!”

Rhys pinched the bridge of his nose and muttered something unintelligible under his breath. 

“Wow. Alright. Really didn’t want to know that but thanks...I guess...uh...congrats?” Meg raised a timid eyebrow, almost wincing. 

“Damn right,” Jack grinned, kicking up his feet on the desk. Meg let out a deep exhale. 

“Well...at least that sorts out some...mysteries,” she chuckled nervously, rubbing her forehead. She glanced up and looked at the two men across the room. 

“Uh...I think you should know...all of Helios is...in an uproar over...your return, Jack,” she informed him. That snippet of information seemed to please Jack further. 

“Perfect! Good to see everyone’s excited for the hero’s grand return,” he lazily tucked his hands behind his head and leaned back into his chair. 

“Yeah...well...actually Helios has been in an uproar over both of you. Y’know, the only stuff we saw up on that platform was your entrance. And then Rhys with this scary, unreadable stony expression. He’d looked like he just watched twenty orphans get hit by a train,” Meg continued. Then she winced. 

“Sorry, that was dark. Erm...well, you get my point. So when you two left the stand, everyone assumed you were going to...fight it out...like...one of you was gonna kill the other–although now I see that was _ definitely _not the case,” Meg noted, once more rubbing her forehead furiously. Jack let out a snicker. 

“Shut up, jackass,” Rhys whipped around glaring at his smug expression. Jack simply crumpled a piece of paper lying on the desk and tossed the ball into the side of Rhys’s head. Rhys batted the paper ball away and turned back to face Meg. 

“So...what else has been going on?”

“Well...uh...everyone’s been placing bets on who killed who…since...you know...both of you disappeared,” Meg informed him. Behind Rhys, Jack heaved a sigh. 

“–And who did you bet on?” He asked her drily, a bare hint of amusement underlying his tone. 

“I–No! I didn’t bet on anyone! I’m supposed to be unbiased, impartial, I wouldn’t–”

“Boring! Here I thought you were the gambling type,” Jack booed, crumpling up another paper ball and aiming for Meg’s head. Meg side-stepped as the harmless ball hit the ground near her foot and rolled her eyes. 

“Well, betting on my two top bosses–who by the way–have a long history of shooting their employees–didn’t seem like a good idea. I’d rather be alive than broke ‘cause I lost all my money in a bet,” she shifted, hands resting on her hips with a glower. 

“Well I certainly wouldn’t!” Jack exclaimed cheerfully before clapping his hands together.

“Anyways, it’s been a lovely chat with you Meggy–“

“–Don’t call me that–“

“–but I’ve got work to do today. Just leave whatever documents you have on Rhys’s desk over there. I’m gonna broadcast a company wide announcement sometime near noon and let everyone know how this station’s gonna run with both of us now,” Jack gestured offhandedly to Rhys. Meg nodded, complying with Jack’s orders and swiftly dropping the papers on Rhys’s empty desk. 

“If you two need anything, you know where to find me,” she smiled with a wave and headed for the exit. As the door slid close and she disappeared from sight, Rhys turned to face Jack who was still lazily lounged in his large yellow chair. 

“I’ve got a couple things I need to take care of this morning. I’ll be back in an hour or so and then we can go over the details of our co-ownership,” Rhys informed him, grinning. 

“Sounds good, sugar. I got some catch-up reading on what’s been happening the past week or so and then I gotta pay a visit to Angel. Hey, by the way how was she while I was...gone?”

Rhys shifted.

“She...was alright. She didn’t know where you’d gone until she came and found me and I explained things. Then I started visiting her every couple days down in the labs just to make sure she was holding up okay,” he explained. Jack rubbed his forehead. 

“Fuck. I should have told her I had a backup plan or something–” Jack groaned. He sighed. 

“When you get back from whatever you need to take care of this morning, can you run the show yourself for just a bit longer? I gotta see my baby, fuck–I missed her. I want to make sure she’s okay.”

A light smile touched Rhys’s lips. 

“Of course. And she’ll be very happy to see you,” he informed Jack. Jack seemed to cheer up at this notion. 

“Thanks.”

Rhys glanced at the time in the corner of his ECHOeye vision. 

“I should get going, I need to check in with my friends and let them know everything’s okay,” he turned away from the desk. 

“Yeah sure, go ahead. Oh hey by the way, whatever happened to Wallethead? Last I remember before I checked out was him screwing you over. Please tell me you finally grew the balls when you became CEO and ruined his life.”

Rhys spun back around on his heels, a wild grin plastered across his face. There was a spark of something flickering in his eye. A strange new, vicious look accompanied by a hint of amusement. 

“Now that’s a funny story, actually. After you died, he somehow managed to convince the other executives to approve his decision to appoint himself as CEO. I wasn’t happy so I went up to this office and found him sitting here like he owned the place.”

Rhys snickered before continuing. 

“Remember our spy problem? Turns out he was our culprit. He’d been sending funding and information to the Raiders on Pandora. Apparently the bandits cut him a deal a while ago. So naturally I trapped him in the elevator with a live grenade. You should have seen the mess he made on the walls,” Rhys mimed an explosion with his hands complete with sound effects. Jack stared at him for a split second before exploding with laughter. His fist hit the desk as he keeled over positively heaving with mirth. He broke off into a storm of chuckling and glanced up, a wide grin tugging at his mask. 

“Holy shit! You’ve grown!” He threw back his head and roared with another fit of laughter. 

“Damn! I would have paid money to see that! I’m glad you’re finally shaping up into a proper businessman! Just like me–oh man, this is great!” Jack chuckled, clapping his hands together and shaking his head. 

Rhys scoffed, feeling an inkling of pride. 

“Well anyways, I should get going. I’ll see you in a bit,” he turned away from Jack’s desk with a wave and strode towards the exit.

“Love you,” he tossed offhandedly over his shoulder to Jack’s chuckling form behind him.

“Love you too, cupcake!”

\-----–––––

The errand Rhys wanted to take care of in the morning was that of Vaughn and Yvette. Since neither Rhys nor Jack had been sighted in almost a full day, Rhys figured Vaughn would be in a fit of utter hysterical worry. And Yvette would probably be at least rationally worried. 

Strolling through the different halls throughout Helios’s floors, Rhys could feel the obvious ogles of employees burn into his back. 

“It’s Rhys!”

“Strongfork is back!”

“What about Handsome Jack?”

“Is Handsome Jack dead?”

“Hah! You owe me money, it _ was _Rhys”

“How do you think the fight for Hyperion went?”

Were a few loud whispers that trailed Rhys like a loyal dog as he traipsed through the space station. He was lighting quick to cast a furious glare in the direction of employees peering at him with a little _ too _much curiosity. 

“What the hell are you staring at? Get back to work!” He snapped more than once at stunned onlookers. Rhys growled. 

“Seriously! Move on, back to your office! Or I’ll take out my goddamn gun–” 

Employees quickly learned to move along.

Rhys finally made the full journey across Helios and ducked into the housing sector. This side of Helios was much quieter and Rhys was alone in the corridor without prying eyes. He turned down a familiar empty hallway of apartment doors. Halfway down the corridor he swiftly strode to the keypad of his flat and scanned with his ECHOeye. The lock flipped open and he pushed open the door. 

Striding inside his apartment he paused, beholding the amusing scene before him. Vaughn was planted upright on the couch, fast asleep. His chin touched his chest and his glasses hung crooked form his nose. Yvette was stationed on the other end of the furniture, legs strewn across the couch and feet jammed into Vaughn’s torso. At Rhys’s entrance, she glanced up from the papers in her hand, expression shifting from a drastic bout of surprise to confusion and then relief.

“Rhys!” She exclaimed delightedly dropping the documents in her hand and shooting to her feet off the couch. Vaughn blearily opened his eyes at her outburst with a grumble. 

“–Rhys? Where–Oh shit!” Vaughn’s eyes blew wide as he scrambled off the couch and unsteadily clambered to his feet. He hastily readjusted his glasses and cracked a large smile upon recognizing his friend. Rhys grinned and strode forwards into the apartment, arms outstretched in invitation. 

“Bro!” Vaughn exclaimed, bounding forwards and pulling him in for a firm, squeezing hug. Rhys gasped for air. Yvette (although more reluctant) then followed suit, happily joining the bro-hug. Chuckling, Rhys held his friends embrace for a moment longer before he wriggled out of their grasp and stepped back, beaming. Yvette was grinning as she planted her hands on her hips and Vaughn clapped a hand on Rhys’s shoulder. 

“You care to tell us what happened yesterday?” Vaughn asked, eyebrows raised.

“Yeah! Like was that really Handsome Jack yesterday? Did he really return?” 

Rhys grinned.

“You heard him yesterday, Jack’s back in town!”

“So is he running Hyperion again? What about you? What are you going to do?”

“No no. Actually, we’re both running Hyperion, he’s my co,” Rhys clarified, a hint of bemused pride in his tone as he watched his friends’ expression contort into mixtures of confusion and disbelief. 

“Holy shit. I could never imagine Handsome Jack making someone an equal. Are you really sure he’s giving up half his power to you? I mean–I–he’s–he–“ Yvette stuttered off, voice riddled with disbelief. Rhys shook his head

“Nah nah, he hasn’t given up any power. With me, now there’s basically just two of him, which means double the trouble,” Rhys clarified. Yvette shook her head, chuckling. 

“I just–I can’t believe out of the three of us...you succeeded the most!” She laughed, usual cool, collected composure suddenly shattered. She leapt forwards and threw her arms around Rhys’s shoulders, burying her face in his shoulder. Rhys grinned and in turn wrapped his arms around her torso for a firm hug. Another weight crashed into them as Vaughn joined in their second bro embrace of the morning. 

“I’ll miss having you around for lunch,” Yvette smiled sadly, pushing her slipping glasses back into place. Then she pouted. 

“Now I can’t bully you for lunch money.”

“It’s ok, you can bully me instead,” Vaughn chimed in wholeheartedly. Rhys joined in their warm chuckles as the three of them stood in a tight embrace swaying in the center of the apartment. 

“Yeah, I’ll miss you guys too.”

\-------------

\-------------

And so, here we find ourselves a few months later from the very beginning of this story where Rhys had been a simple man, ordered to deliver blueprints to Hyperion’s feared CEO. Then Rhys was dumb enough to take no shit from Handsome Jack and then fell in love with the man. Then, somehow, by some crazy twist of fate, the pair sought each other out and Rhys now ended up CEO of Hyperion, with Jack by his side. 

A couple days after Jack’s return from temporary death, Rhys decided to move out from his old place with Vaughn and in with Jack. After all, he and Jack were everything short of married at this point. There was a tearful departure from Vaughn, who gave Rhys an excruciatingly tight hug, demanding that Rhys stay safe and that Vaughn would miss him terribly. Yvette was there too. She affectionately patted Rhys’s cheek and assured him she’d beat up Handsome Jack if he ever treated Rhys badly. 

Rhys reassured both of them he’d be alright. He also vigorously assured his friends the three of them would still host their B&B nights every week or so. Vaughn and Yvette were satisfied with this plan. 

And because of Rhys’s immense position of power over Hyperion, the least he could do for his best friends in the whole world (who’d stuck by his side through _ everything) _ was grant them some _ major _apartment upgrades. Yeah, executive suites would be adequate. Yvette was more than ecstatic over this.

Not to say Rhys wasn’t sad about his departure but his tang of melancholy was mixed with a taste of satisfaction and a sense of finality. Everything felt right and pieces were falling into place. He was making all the right decisions which led him to happiness. He’d fulfilled his life, and he was ready to start a new chapter. 

Living with Jack was vastly different from living with Vaughn. There were practically zero chill times. The atmosphere had a lot more energy, he and Jack were almost always engaged in something mornings and evenings. An occasional “you forgot to feed the cat, dumbass!” Could often be heard. He and Jack often found themselves in stupid arguments, cuddling and watching tv together as well as discussing Hyperion plans among other topics. Rhys loved every bit of this stupidly dreamy lifestyle. 

And Jack showed his affections for Rhys quite strongly. In the penthouse there was a lot less personal space for both of them. Down in Helios, Rhys and Jack maintained a more professional attitude but even then, Rhys would return to their big office and find stray flowers (accompanied by bloodstains) strewn about his desk. Rhys had to admit, the blood was a bit ominous but hey, Jack was just doing his best. Then Rhys would look over to find Jack staring at him smugly. Rhys found the gestures oddly endearing in their own questionable way. 

Unfortunately Jack had a habit of getting a little too touchy-feely when he was seated beside Rhys in meetings. There was that _ one _(only one thank fucking god) time where Jack could not hold his stupid fucking act together long enough. Rhys had truly thought all the employees had exited the meeting room when he finally allowed Jack to pin him to the wall and do whatever the fuck he wanted with him.

“Ohgh–fuck!” Rhys growled, hand already on his pistol as he spied the two unfortunate employees left in the room. God, Rhys did NOT appreciate having outside gazes on him when he was like this, he did _ not _enjoy appearing any sort of weak in front of anyone else...well...besides the obvious...Jack hungrily at his neck and hand squeezing his thigh. Jack paused for a moment, glancing over his shoulder just in time to catch the show of precise bullets silently thunking into the foreheads of the unfortunate lads left in the room. As their corpses crumpled to the floor, Jack whirled back to Rhys, who grinned and spun the gun on his finger. 

“That is unfairly hot,” Jack growled. Rhys chuckled, seizing a fistful of his collared shirt and pulling him in for another kiss.

Jack was also in an increasingly better temperament. He was a whole happier man. 

Rhys discovered he and Jack’s new developing life together was simply pure bliss. Pure perfection. He had everything he wanted. Jack also seemed exceptionally in an elevated mood. Rhys carefully monitored his actions the first few days back from death in concern. After all, dying and coming back to life wasn’t an everyday experience. But despite Rhys’s initial worry, Jack appeared to have recovered just fine, so Rhys found no need to question him about his experience and such. 

In hindsight, Rhys probably should have checked in earlier. 

Jack’s nightmares began somewhere around his fourth or fifth night back. Rhys was suddenly jolted from his peaceful sleep in the dead of night due to Jack’s violent unrest, tossing and turning beside him. A bit annoyed, first Rhys assumed Jack was awake and just fucking around or something but as his scarred face flipped to the side, he was clearly sunk into deep sleep. His expression was contorted into a strange mixture of anxiety and fear, eyes squeezed tightly shut. He was incoherently mumbling strings of unintelligible words.

In the moment, Rhys hadn’t the faintest idea of what he should do. He froze, staring wide-eyed at Jack’s distressed form. He wanted to help since something was clearly wrong but he didn’t want to bother Jack by waking him...especially if it turned out nothing was wrong and Rhys was worried over nothing. Maybe he was just having a passing bad dream.

So he did his best to fall back asleep. 

This pattern of violent unrest continued on for the next few nights until one night, Jack actually woke, shooting upright with a hushed gasp. Awoken by the sudden movement, Rhys cracked an eye and blearily made out Jack’s silhouette in the sitting hunched beside him in the darkened bedroom. Jack keeled over for a moment and furiously rubbed his hands over his face. 

“Mmh…what’s going on?” Rhys asked sleepily, barely raising his head and cracking open his other eye. 

“It’s nothing, just go back to sleep,” Jack murmured out a hoarse response before flopping backwards and settling back down under the sheets. His head hit the pillow with a dull thud and a sigh. He rolled over to Rhys in the darkness, throwing an arm around Rhys’s torso and Rhys willingly scooted closer, bumping his forehead against Jack’s. Rhys pressed his nose into the crook of Jack’s neck, feeling the salty tang of sweat as he closed his eyes and quickly fell back asleep.

Jack’s pattern of restless sleep continued for four days. Four whole days until Rhys finally had enough. On the fifth night, as Jack tossed wildly, Rhys sat upright and glared at his thrashing form. He reached out with his flesh fingers and caught hold of Jack’s sweaty shoulder, giving him a squeeze and a rather harsh shake. 

“Jack? Jack...wake up,” Rhys murmured in the darkness. “Hey!”

Jack shot upright with a breathless gasp, dislodging Rhys’s grip. His chest heaved and he gasped for air. He let out a sharp exhale. 

“Woah! Woah...are you alright?” Rhys asked, eyes wide and awake staring worriedly at Jack’s dim silhouette in the pitch black room. 

“I–I’m fine,” Jack insisted, voice oddly faulty. He swiped an arm across his face. 

“It’s okay, just go back to sleep,” he reassured Rhys. His words were supposed to strike comfort but instead Rhys’s concerns only grew. He bought none of Jack’s act of assurance. 

“Hey...you don’t sound okay...what’s going on?” Rhys softly spoke, gently reaching out and brushing Jack’s arm. 

“Nothing. It’s nothing, sweetheart. Just go back to–”

“Nightmares?” Rhys questioned. See, Rhys himself had been a victim of heavy plaguing nightmares many a time before, he knew exactly just what the symptoms were. 

Silence greeted his hanging question before…

“...Yeah…somethin’ like that...”

Rhys leaned over wrapping his flesh arm around Jack’s torso. Beneath Rhys’s touch, Jack’s muscles were drawn taught. He felt rather clammy, a cold sort of sweat clinging to his body. Jack released a tired, shaky sigh and leaned into Rhys’s embrace. Rhys’s head bumped against his shoulder. 

“You wanna talk about it?” 

“...no…”

“Okay,” Rhys shrugged, letting his eyes flutter shut. A moment of silence hung between them as Jack slowly relaxed and simply leaned into Rhys’s arm. His breathing had slowed.

“Is there anything I can do?” Rhys ventured quietly after a minute. 

“Yeah...go back to sleep,” Jack mumbled lightly, flicking Rhys’s shoulder. 

“I won’t unless you do too,” Rhys murmured, readjusting his grip around Jack’s middle. 

“Mmm...alright, then come here,” Jack decidedly muttered, leaning back and settling back down under the covers. Flopped backwards and relaxed for a moment before rolling over and pressing his cheek to the warm fabric on Jack’s chest. He contentedly felt Jack’s arms enveloped him, pulling him closer. 

“Just wake me up if you need anything,” Rhys murmured, giving Jack’s shirt a lazy pat before his eyes fluttered shut. Silence filled the room and Rhys slowly felt his consciousness slipping away to the sound of Jack’s steady breathing. He was just about to drift off into the inviting bleakness of sleep until Jack opened his mouth to speak. 

“It’s...dark,” he whispered quite suddenly. 

“What?” Rhys mumbled sleepily, cracking open a lazy eye. 

“My nightmares,” Jack clarified almost hesitantly.

“Oh?” Rhys murmured softly, raising his head. Jack stole a shaky breath and continued. 

“They’re...dark...and empty. There’s nothing, absolutely nothing,” he whispered, voice teetering as he continued. 

“It’s what it felt like to be...dead. There’s nothing, no sounds, no sight, no feelings, I’m not even there,” Jack’s whisper trembled. 

“Nothing. There’s absolutely nothing left. And I–I don’t want to go back there. It’s dark, it’s empty, there’s no one and there’s nothing–I’m–I’m all alone–” Jack’s voice rose from a whisper as panic crept into his tone. Rhys could feel tremors wracking Jack’s body underneath him. For the second time that night, Rhys pushed himself off the mattress sat upright as Jack slowly followed suit. 

“I–I’m sorry, I said too much,” Jack murmured from beside him. Rhys sighed, lightly putting his flesh arm around Jack's shoulders and squeezing him tight. 

“It’s alright, you don’t need to be sorry. Come here–” Rhys pulled Jack in, carefully throwing his metal arm across Jack’s chest in a comforting embrace. The effect was immediate. Jack’s muscles went slack and he twisted towards Rhys, melting into Rhys’s arms and burying his bare face in the collar of Rhys’s nightshirt.

“I just don’t...I don’t want to go back there,” he mumbled, a tremor accenting his tone. Rhys gently combed his fingers through the soft ruffled mess of Jack’s tangled hair. 

“I know, it’s alright. You don’t need to worry about it, you’re safe,” Rhys murmured, closing his eyes, chin gently bumping the top of Jack’s head. 

“I don’t want to go back,” Jack repeated shakily in his arms.

“–And you won't go back. You’re safe, you’re home. I’m right here and I’m not gonna let you go. You aren’t alone,” Rhys whispered soft words of reassurance. Jack sighed, his arms around Rhys tightening as he gathered the will to continue. 

“...There’s absolutely nothing there....I–I don’t want to go back...I’m–I’m afraid...Rhys...I don’t want...I’m don’t...I’m...I’m scared...” he murmured admittedly, clinging almost desperately to the soft fabric of Rhys’s night shirt.

“It’s okay, I’m here, I’m right here. You’re not going back, I promise...It’s alright, I’m here, you’re not alone,” Rhys comforted softly. 

“I don’t want to go, I don’t want you to let go of me,” Jack murmured. 

“I won’t. I’m not going to leave. I’m right here, just like always. You’re not alone.”  
\-----------

After the first night of Rhys’s intervention, Jack’s plaguing nightmares lessened. He absolutely refused to talk about the restless nights in the morning...but Rhys had the suspicion Jack was healing. Each passing day he seemed to grow more...alive. 

At night when his nightmares would surface, Rhys would wake him and the two of them would sit clinging together, Jack lying in Rhys’s arms, relishing the comfort of being home, beside Rhys. His nightmares were quelling with each passing night. Life on Helios was returning to what had been before Jack’s untimely demise. Rhys’s total happiness had been restored. All was well, especially running Hyperion by Jack’s side.

Jack frequently, excitedly babbled on to Rhys about the Vault key and how it was nearing the full capacity of its power. He declared they only needed a few more months until the key would be charged and ready for action. Jack enthusiastically explained they’d be able to open the Vault together and how the ancient mysterious power within would grant them a lethal weapon known as the Warrior. He described the Warrior in detail and painted a picture of how the Vault monster’s power could bring peace to Pandora by a total cleanse. Pandora would be restored to a clean slate. The planet would be visciously wiped sparkling clean of it’s filthy bandit disease. 

According to Rhys, Jack’s whole Warrior plan sounded perfect. Rhys was mighty supportive of the whole cleansing idea. Of course the mass killing of an entire planet wasn’t super ideal but on the other hand, the people down there weren’t really...people. 

After all, Rhys had experienced many of Pandora’s savage, bloody horrors first hand. Cleansing the planet had to be done for the greater good no matter the sacrifice. 

So the Warrior plan was deemed by Rhys simple and effective. Even if this plan involved the teensy genocide of an entire planet.

Speaking of Pandora, lately, certain bandits had kept rather low and quiet. The Raiders, actually, to be exact. Rhys supposed Jack’s sudden return may have instilled a good deal of confusion and fear. After all, the Raiders’ leader, Lilith was the one to strike Jack dead. Yet Rhys had heard nothing from her the past weeks. He didn’t bother hunting her down either, Jack’s return was more than enough satisfying revenge. And even if he wanted to launch a direct attack, the Raiders’ flying city of Sanctuary was alarmingly well protected, moonshots and other means of battering inflicted nothing upon the city’s shields..

When speaking to Jack about the late obscurity and quietness of the bandits, Jack had laughed. 

“Oh yeah, they’re definitely hiding in fear. Couldn’t handle the return of my handsome swag! Hah!” 

“Your handsome _ what _ now?”

In short, the Raiders had been rather neatly and nicely tucked themselves away into the safety of their city after learning of Jack’s return. They were rather uneventful save for a couple usual fruitless attempts to seize Hyperion facilities on Pandora. So this was great, the bandits were no longer of worry. 

On the other hand, some strange strings of events were rippling through other rival companies in the galaxy. See, Hyperion had it’s sly fingers hooked somewhere in nearly every competitor. Hyperion slipped spies with large eyes and ears into the ranks of opposing companies. Other companies too had begun to grow a little quiet not unlike the Raiders. Rhys noticed their sudden lack of interest in Hyperion and to be quite frank, the recent disinterest struck him as incredibly strange, especially since Hyperion investors had practically soared once Jack had returned. Less deals and meetings were proposed from other companies. When Rhys brought up the strange new trend to Jack he simply sighed. 

“Finally. Sounds like all these friggin’ pests are backing off Pandora which is nice. They can fuck right off back to the Edens cause Pandora is _ my _ personal project. It _ belongs _ to me.”

Spies filed reports of increased trade between rival companies. Jakobs, Tediore, Atlas, Maliwan...even Torgue.

But that’s not to say Hyperion wasn’t still king of the game! Ever since Rhys’s appointment of CEO and Jack’s returns, Hyperion’s stocks had shot up a whopping thirty-four percent. Increased sales and weapons production too. As Rhys schmoozed around corporate parties, investor interest was soaring at an all time high. Hyperion’s newfound success did not go unnoticed. 

Hyperion was better than ever, arguably the most powerful company in the system. And Rhys? Rhys was a more powerful man than he could have ever dreamed, all with Jack by his side.

\------------

Four months flew by in an instant. God, everything was perfect. Rhys and Jack were in near perfect bliss in this harsh corporate life. They ran the whole damn company together. Attending meetings, parties, bandit-hunting on Pandora, more mishap adventures and screwing around on that god-forsaken planet. Jack loved every bit of it. Loved every bit of loving Rhys. Loved every goddamn thing they did together. Rhys felt nothing but the same. The same brilliant, blind passion. Nothing in this goddamn universe would ever part them. Not even death, so it seemed.

By each other's side, both underwent a few noticeable shifts. Through all his time with Jack, starting from the very beginning of their first meeting, Rhys had begun to learn the much more cutthroat world of real business. He adapted. Not much time passed before he learned that Jack’s list of traits for success were true: Being an asshole was part of the job description. A little trigger-happy made the world fun. 

Jack on the other hand...took an opposite route. Now if you dare think for a second Jack mellowed out in any way shape or form, you are sorely, sorely mistaken. He faithfully followed the same violent pattern of mannerisms as ever _ but _ Rhys taught him restraint. Restraint on his temper. Rhys quickly learned from the incident of the broken moonshot just how blind Jack’s fury made him and the moonshot event was a _ tame _ example. Before Rhys came along, Jack suffered a whole lot worse, taking out his blind rage on even more employees and even on himself. He learned restraint as Rhys unknowingly taught him. There was a visible drop in employee casualties inflicted via Jack-rage. Rhys helped bring him back down while his blind egotistical mannerisms took control when shit hit the fan. 

They fit together perfectly, personalities bouncing off each other with ease. Rhys never hesitated to jump into Jack’s banties, the two of them having these beautifully sarcastic and quick witted conversations. 

“C’mon pumpkin, it’s not murder if it was consensual! That representive fuck from Jakobs was _ begging _for it when he made that comment about me!”

“Yeah? Fine. Going by your logic it’s _ still _ murder ‘cause after you shot all his fingers off he was on his knees pleading for his life. Then you _ still _ put a bullet in his head even when he begged you not to! Besides nevermind that, you caused an uproar and a shootout, idiot! What did I say beforehand? _ Don’t let unflattering comments go to your head, it makes things difficult. _And then you went and made it all difficult!”

“In my defense, someone telling me _ “You’re way shorter than I thought, man. This is Handsome Jack? How are you supposed to be intimidating, again?” _Is what I consider a capital offense.”

“You really need to work on your height complex. Although honestly 5’11 is kinda short.”

“Shut the fuck up Mr. Spider-legs.”

They were made for each other. 

Rhys’s name quickly made its merry way down to Pandora and in just a mere four months, it traveled by ear to rival companies. Rhys Strongfork. The guy running Hyperion beside Handsome Jack. Miraculous, really. Nobody expected Jack to pull a co-CEO out of thin air practically overnight. In fact, most sane folks out there across Pandora and within other companies pondered to themselves,

_ “So who the hell is this Rhys Strongfork jackass? And how is he a co-CEO with Handsome friggin’ Jack? How in hell hasn’t this Rhys guy been killed by Jack? One megalomaniac sociopath trying to genocide Pandora is enough, now there’s two??” _

Right. Their relationship wasn’t really common knowledge. Neither Jack nor Rhys particularly cared about what people knew. They didn’t bother hiding their relations yet they didn’t bother announcing it to anyone. On Helios most employees figured out what was going on one way or another. But they really, desperately tried not to think about it in detail. 

None dared to assume Rhys had risen his position because he was _ Jack’s bitch _or something or other. That was the one strain of gossip Rhys held no patience for. Those who engaged in these outlandish rumors and those who had the audacity to ‘confront’ Rhys themselves were met with a fateful end from the trigger of Rhys Strongfork’s pistol. 

Rhys was quick to earn Hyperion’s trust and respect. After all, he’d done a damn fine job running the show himself while Jack was shortly out of commission. Rhys gained a reputable reputation for behaving...just a little maniacally. Nowhere near as bad as Jack since Rhys preferred witty bark over sharp bite. Rhys soon gained the flattering title of corporate asshole. 

Deals. Trades. Contracts. Those were his specialty. Physical aspects of dealing with other companies. Rhys was known to strike hard deals quite often. He had a sharp wit, not uncommon in most newbie CEOs. So obviously at first other companies laughed and failed to take his words seriously. Until he started springing into action. Most of Rhys’s deals were fair, some drove a hard bargain as Jakobs quickly found. And a few he double crossed, which Maliwan learned the harsh way. He’d arrived at the designated meeting location, money in the brief-case replaced by a time-bomb and Loader Bots trained on the abandoned warehouse. 

Jack on the other hand excelled in rival company meetings and schmoozing. Also bandit annihilation. 

He and Jack were graciously granted the title “Two-headed snake of Hyperion.” by Atlas tabloids. The title stuck and soon the nickname spread across other companies and even Pandora itself. The name was rather fitting, really. With Hyperion’s rapid success rate, others began to fear the company’s growing power and strengthening hold on Pandora. Well, with Handsome Jack, an egotistical, charming, bloodied maniac as well as Rhys Strongfork, a sharp-witted, clever, reasonable negotiator with a teensy affinity for violence running the show, there was little to stop them. 

They were unstoppable. A well feared (and duly respected) pair known across the stars. Hyperion just became the most powerful, feared company in existence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next update probably wont be out for at least a week. I want to finish revising all three final chapters (around 20k) words so I can post them consecutively each day when theyre finished. I think you guys would enjoy that more.  
Speaking of, thank you so much for supporting me along the way ily all so much


	35. Chapter 35

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here it is folks, the final stretch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heres my [rhack playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5qFvNBKMAGRnFKGWjfPWUI?si=OpTYNEAPTwKB5-BHA1duxg) that i listen to while writing–its a mix of both this version of rhack and tftb rhack

One month passed. Now a total of five months passed since Jack’s return and Rhys became Jack’s co. Seven or eight months since Rhys first stepped into his office, a tentative lowly engineer, simply wishing for a smidgeon of recognition. 

See, everything was perfect. Everything was aligning, everything was falling according to plan and schedule. Hell, even the bandits had stopped persisting. Rival companies had begun to retract competitive influence on Pandora. Jack had been excitedly informing Rhys about the Vault key’s status. 

“Ninety-three percent charged baby! Should be ready in three weeks!” Hell, Rhys was happy and Jack was close to fulfilling his extensive plan to cleanse Pandora once and for all.

But one fateful day...one fateful day everything came crashing down. 

The sky began to fall. 

God...Rhys was stupid. He blamed himself. He should have been paying more attention to events happening across the universe instead of walking with his inflated head in the clouds. Frustratingly enough, he’d even had that suspicious niggling at the base of his skull, telling him this didn’t feel right. Rival companies leaving Pandora and the bandits silently giving up at the same timeframe sounded almost too good to be true. 

Shit, he’d been so distracted with success… 

Rhys was located on the fourth floor of Helios when everything went wrong. He’d been peering over the shoulder of the Head of Robotics Division, intently studying the computer screen of the nervous woman’s collection of data for the month. 

He raised a finger and opened his mouth, pointing at one of the statistic numbers preparing to make a remark when a distracting alert popped into his ECHOeye, obscuring his vision. He attempted to swipe away the annoyance when the box suddenly multiplied, dozens of notifications swamped his vision. He stepped back in a whirl of surprise and confusion as more and more messages came flooding in and his heart skipped a beat as the pleasant, light blue theme of his optic holographs suddenly flashed a brilliant red.

“–Woah! Woah what–shit–“

Red was the opposite of good. Bad. Something very bad was happening. Warnings and exclamation points blinded his sight. 

_ Unidentifiable Spacecraft Approaching! Moonshot Protocol 3.2 Activated _

_ Security Breach 7.2 Protocols Activated _

_ Warning! Breach Detected! _

_ Helios Breach Defense Protocol Activated _

Rhys synched his ECHOeye to Helios’s security system several months back as a precaution. Never in his wildest fears did Rhys expect something as bad as the current situation. And he didn’t even know what was going on!

As notifications flashed across his optics, he audibly cursed. What was decipherable from the mess of protocol codes, was loader bot deployment down to the west wing as well as turret activation throughout the entirety of Helios. 

What the fuck was going on?

In order to control the influx of spam, Rhys powered off his eye and whipped his ECHOpad from his pocket. His heart thudded loudly in his ears as he swiped the screen.

“...sir? Are you alright…?” The Head of Robotics Division woman Rhys had been working with now stared wide-eyed at Rhys’s sudden panicked stature with concern. Rhys jerked his head up, fingers hovering over the screen of his ECHOpad. He feigned a smile.

“I’m fine. I just have some matters to attend to, I–“ Rhys’s excuse was cut off by the loud wail of a siren. Both he and the HRD woman flinched. The room’s lighting dimmed to a bright red as the emergency system went haywire. Rhys visibly paled as adrenaline flooded his system. This had never happened before, never in the history of any of his long years on Helios–

There was a mad scramble of employees leaping up from their desks in a confused fearful frenzy. A strange voice filtered through the intercom. Rhys instantly recognized it as Felicity, the _ other _Helios AI (besides AGIS). She was the military grade artificial intelligence who faithfully regulated and oversaw Helios’s functioning systems on top of monitoring the space station’s defenses. 

And Felicity never activated Helios-wide unless under extreme conditions.

_ “Do not panic. Especially if you want to live. Helios’s safety is compromised. Draw whatever weapons you have and proceed in an organized fashion to either a lockdown location or attempt to board a transfer ship.” _

A fearful clamor rose from the room.

_ “Armed intruders of an unknown affiliation have entered the space station. Escape by pod is currently impossible. Loader bots are already addressing the situation. For your safety, it is recommended that you arm yourself.” _

There was something going terribly, terribly wrong. Employees in the department already whipped themselves into a frenzy, headed for various exits. The department head brushed past Rhys and stormed for the door behind him. Under the blaring red emergency lights, Rhys quickly whirled around and dashed out of the department into the main hallways of Helios clutching his ECHOpad. People were rushing every which way.

He had to find Jack, where was Jack? What the hell was going on? Armed intruders? Who…? Did a rival company launch an attack? Here? Helios? How did they manage past the defense system? 

Jamming the ECHOpad up to his ear, Rhys dashed to the end of the hallway, pushing his way through panicked employees. He found the emergency stairwell and slammed the door open with his boot, hopping down the steps.

“Come on, come on pick UP!” Rhys cursed, paging Jack. Finally, the audible click of the receiver being answered reached his ear.

“JACK! Where the hell are you? What’s happening?” Rhys shouted, pausing in the stairwell, hand clutching the railing.

“Fuck, I was just about to call–I’m in the hub right now. There’s friggin–’” Jack’s voice was drowned out by the sound of a bullet. As Rhys listened into the other end, the clamoring shouts and roar of bullets crackled through the call.

“–It’s Maliwan! And Tediore as well! And I’m recognizing some Raider bastards!” 

Rhys’s blood ran cold on the spot. With a smooth gesture he drew his pistol and leapt down the final flights of stairs.

“I’m coming to find you. Where are you?”

“East wing! And be careful!” Jack shouted over the other end.

“I’ll be there in a second,” Rhys snapped his ECHO shut and paused, tucking the device into his back pocket. He reached down and smacked the shield at his belt for activation, feeling more secure as the shield’s vibrant orange outlines trailed his body. 

Maliwan? Tediore? Raiders? What the hell did all that mean? Rhys shouldn’t focus on that, he’d figure that out soon enough. Right now he had to get to Jack. Alive. 

Flying down the final stairwell, muffled sounds of commotion began to grow louder. At last, Rhys burst through the emergency staircase door with a bang and stormed over the threshold into the main hub. His finger instinctively slipped onto the trigger of his pistol as he stared in wide-eyed horror at the scene unfolding before him. 

Across Helios was a sprawling mess of utter chaos. A havoc of destruction, bots, bullets and bodies. The intruders were just as Jack described over the ECHOpad. Throughout the fray, Rhys recognized the spotting colors of Maliwan and Tediore…Atlas...Jakobs. Not only them but a familiar sea of intruders fought beside the companies, sporting their recognizable blood red helmets.

Crimson Raiders.

For a moment, Rhys stood paralyzed, star struck at the horrors unfolding before him. The clamor of shouts and deafening gunfire washed over his body. He tore his eyes away from the main mass of bodies and glanced to the right. The intruders were trickling in from the west wing...the direction of the hangar. 

And they had brought their own shield bots to the battle. 

Hyperion fought back fiercely. As every loader bot fell, two more rose to the fight. Rhys spotted Hyperion soldiers crouching behind rubble and the corners of walls. Hyperion turrets had popped from various spots on the ceiling, trained on moving targets and colorful enemies dashing across the hub. 

Snipers in Hyperion colors peaked out from elevated regions, stationed up on high floors, eyes in scopes, firing into the fray. 

A hail of bullets whizzed past Rhys’s ear and he was snapped from his paralyzed, awestruck stupor in an instant. Cursing he pivoted on a heel and raised his pistol, firing off several shots in the direction of the bullets’ origin while spotting the Maliwan soldier peeking out from a nearby corner.

Sending an explosive blast that ripped through the unfortunate man in a matter of seconds, Rhys whipped back around, eyes darting across his surroundings in caution. He had to find Jack. He was somewhere in all this somewhere near the east wing.

Entering the outskirts of the fray, Rhys ducked behind several bots and dodged behind debris for suitable cover. Crouched in the dust, he reloaded his weapon and glanced across the chaos of the hub. He’d grown close to the east wing, he had one final stretch to left to make across the fray. 

A bullet glanced off his shield as he gathered a burst of adrenaline, spring to his feet and dashing to the next temporary cover. He glanced behind his fleeting back and fired off several shots in the general direction of a clump of Tediore soldiers before sliding behind the worn wreckage of several destroyed loader bots. 

“Rhys!” 

Jack’s voice reached his ears over the ear splitting clamor of bullets and yelling. Rhys’s head whipped around as he spotted Jack several feet away, crouching behind a razed wall. Rhys instantly dashed to his side, sliding behind the debris and joining his company. 

Jack grabbed onto Rhys’s arm, steadying himself. 

“You made it. Thank god. You’re the one with all the Helios security data in your head, do you have any idea what the bloody hell is going on?” Jack growled. Rhys shook his head, squeezing Jack’s shoulder. 

“I know as much as you do. What’s been happening down here?” Rhys shouted over the sounds of destruction in front of them. 

“Not much. A big hodgepodge of every friggin company in a planets radius and a couple hundred fuckin’ hostile bots crashed through the hangar not an hour ago–”

“The security system said something about an unidentified spacecraft approaching–”

“They must have come by ship. Makes sense. Unfortunately, they got the jump on us and because of the hangars friggin’ destroyed, we can’t get anymore bot backup,” Jack cursed. He peeked out from behind the wall to survey the battle raging in the hub.

“Seems like our loader bots and turrets are doing well on their own though...if we get some more manpower out here, it should be enough to blow these fuckers away. Should be no problem, since the intruders are nothing but a mix of bandit scum and random company soldiers,” Jack proclaimed observantly. 

“Right. I’ll send out a message–” Rhys began immediately, pulling his ECHOpad out of his pocket with rough hands. As his fingers urgently flew across the screen, the whole device suddenly stuttered, freezing up. Rhys cursed as he uselessly jabbed at the frozen screen. Scanning the device with his ECHOeye as an attempt to fix the issue, the ECHOeye revealed something horrifying. 

“Something’s jamming my signal,” Rhys held up the device and glanced over at Jack with a hard expression. In a flash, Jack’s own ECHO was out. He scowled at the screen making an identical fruitless attempt to work the device.

“Mine’s not working either.”

Rhys cursed as his sight flew over the streams ECHOeye code. 

“There’s someone messing with the–” Rhys’s eyes went wide as his attention was yanked back down to his screen. His ECHOpad had flickered black and at first Rhys assumed the device had crashed. A rare but possible occurrence. He stared in surprise as the ECHOpad suddenly jerked back to life and a buffering circle appeared on the screen. In a matter of seconds, a video had been loaded onto the screen, appearing to be a live broadcast. Glancing over at Jack, he could tell by Jack’s hardened expression he was getting the same live feed. 

“Who the hell–” Jack started with a growl, glaring at the broadcast which began to play.

The video depicted the interior of what appeared to be some sort of spacecraft. In center frame was a familiar mop of blazing red hair. Rhys watched with mixture of curiosity and a surprising rise of anger as Lilith stepped back from the camera. Her golden eyes glowered down, one hand on her hip and the other holstering a rifle. A ghostly grin tugged at the corners of her mouth. 

“Sup’ Helios. Hyperion. Jack and...Strongfork, if you’re listening, which I have a feeling you are. We’re bringing down Hyperion once and for all. Us–residents of Pandora with the help of some local companies who agree that Hyperion’s terrorization of Pandora needs to stop. When Hyperion’s dead, this corner of the galaxy will be at peace. You’re too mean to be left alive, Hyperion. Today is gonna be your downfall. And Jack? You’re gonna pay for all the suffering and pain you’ve caused us. We’re coming for your head,” Lilith snarled at the camera. A smirk of confidence curled around her expression as the video flickered to black. 

Rhys glanced over at Jack, viewing his reaction. Jack’s fingers curled so tightly around the ECHO and the screen began to crackle under his furious, heated grip.

“That fucking _ bitch _,” he snarled. An old blazing rage flickered behind his eyes. 

“How dare she–“

Rhys paid no attention to Jack’s rising fury. Instead, he was intent on getting the ECHOpad back online. His attempts were met with unsuccess.

“–Fuck! I can't get any messages down to the Hyperion outposts on Pandora. Or anywhere, actually. Lilith or someone’s jamming the friggin’ signal. We can’t get that backup!”

“–come onto Helios–“

“Hey! Back to reality, Jack! Listen to me!” Rhys grabbed Jack’s shoulder and squeezed. He dropped the ECHOpad at Rhys’s touch and almost immediately snapped out of his infuriated stupor.

“She’s nothing compared to us, to Helios. We’ll crush her little makeshift battalion in no time, alright? It’s gonna be easy,” Rhys assured him seriously in a low steady voice, meeting Jack square in the eye. 

“These bandits are nothing. They drop like flies. If Lilith thinks she’s got something on Hyperion, she’s _ very _very wrong,” Rhys growled, a dark grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. 

“We go out there, we fight, we kill the bandits and then we go for Lilith, once and for all,” Rhys grinned, holding up his pistol for effect. Jack gazed at him, a flame kindling behind his eyes.

“Wooh, Jesus. Has anyone told you how sexy it is when you talk about killin' bandits like that?,” he grinned stupidly. Rhys smacked his shoulder.

“Y’know, a battle for Helios isn’t the time for flirting but I’m glad you’ve got the spirit,” Rhys beamed. Jack looked as though he could kiss him. But he restrained himself at the last minute when Rhys patted his cheek affectionately. 

“Alright. C’mon let’s go kill some bandits!”

\---------

And the two of them did exactly that. Both of them strayed around the outskirts of the growing fight, taking precaution yet still taking on considerable foes. 

Rhys whirled around in the nick of time to face a soldier with an empty clip, charging towards him with the barrel of his gun raised high. Rhys ducked under the soldier’s swing and stepped past while snaking his arm upwards, jamming the tip of his pistol underneath the soldier's chin. There was a splatter of brains as Rhys pulled the trigger without second thought. 

Kicking the limp, annoyingly heavy the body away, Rhys spun around, spotting Jack nearby with his dual pistols faithfully in hand. He was swarmed by a squadron of bandits and Jakobs. Rhys moved forwards to help but in a matter of seconds Jack had his aggressors on the ground, corpses lying ragged on the cold floor. 

Jack whirled around to face Rhys, a blood splattered grin painting his mask. Rhys raised his pistol and sent a bullet screaming past Jack’s ear, sinking into the helmet of a Raider coming up on Jack’s blindside. Rhys sprinted forwards, bounding across the floor and nearly crashing into Jack. Rhys grabbed his bloodied coat sleeve.

“You're okay, right? This blood isn’t yours?” Rhys’s chest heaved as worry filled his tone. Jack was covered head to toe, soaked in red. A heavy metallic tang swamped Rhys’s senses. Jack flashed his teeth, startling white against the viscera blood splatters smeared across his mask. 

“You know me, sweetheart, none of this is mine,” he laughed, ruffling a hand through his somehow-intact hair. 

“Well that’s good, ‘cause we can’t win this fight without our hero,” Rhys patted his shoulder. Jack chuckled. 

“Yeah, well...a hero can only do so much,” his voice dropped his charismatic confidence in a heartbeat. 

“What do you mean?” Rhys demanded, squeezing his arm. Jack sucked in a breath and gazed past Rhys’s shoulder. 

“Oh yeah, Helios can hold its own against a few hundred helpless mismatched corporations and bandits...but look who just joined the goddamn party,” Jack growled, shouldering his firearms. Rhys turned to follow the direction of Jack’s gesture.

Fear flooded his body in a cold stream. 

“–Friggin’ Vault Hunters,” Jack growled. Rhys watched, almost paralyzed as across the room a group of five or six warriors stood out amongst the bloodshed. Jack threw up his hands in exasperation.

“Ah, son of a taint! Turns out I’ll have to use some real effort in this friggin’ Helios crash party after all,” Jack growled, tucking away his pistols and bringing out a rifle. 

Rhys watched the party of Vault Hunters stream into action. Three men, two with large guns and one massive hunking man a psycho mask. Two women with flashing tattoos, respectively red and blue. Ah, fantastic. Sirens. One of which Rhys immediately recognized as Lilith. The other siren with blue hair was unknown to him. The last Vault hunter was a lanky black assassin of unidentifiable gender with a sharp, thin, glowing blade. 

“Shit!” Rhys cursed, registering the new bad guys as an actual viable threat. He drew another gun to his left hand. Vault Hunters were known to be practically indestructible. Jack elbowed Rhys and muttered something with a grin about getting back to action. As Rhys dodged through the fray of the fight, he caught short glimpses of the Vault Hunters in flashy action at the edges of his peripherals. The large psycho cleaved through Hyperion bots no problem. Rhys whirled around just in time to spot Lilith and her blue siren partner send a blast of energy into a crowd of Hyperion soldiers. The lanky assassin was dancing between enemies with an odd red smiley face projected across his helmet, slicing foes in half faster than Rhys could blink. 

As Rhys and Jack fought their way in the fight, the difficulty was only increasing. For every foe slain, two more took their place. Helios’s attackers had a new wave of bots streaming in at nearly every second, while the loader bots of Hyperion were limited. A horrible, awful thought crossed Rhys’s mind as he aimed a shot at yet another Maliwan soldier. 

They were trapped and running out of resources. 

Usually, Rhys had a plan. He always had a plan if things went to shit. And if Rhys didn’t have a backup plan, Jack most definitely did. 

“So?” Rhys shouted over the clamor of the fight. 

“We have a backup plan?” He called to Jack, who whipped around to take a shot at a Tediore soldier behind Rhys. 

“Yeah! It’s called, fight for your goddamn life!” Jack laughed jovially. A cold pit of dread settled in Rhys’s stomach. There was no backup plan. Fear prickled at the back of Rhys’s mind. So...they were trapped. Trapped on Helios with resources dwindling and support unreachable.

While Jack was busy causing havoc and carnage, Rhys’s mind gears churned as he struggled to formulate a plan in the heat of destruction. Firing off another shot, Rhys clenched his jaw. There had to be something they could do. No way was Rhys or Jack for that matter, lose this fight. 

“We need backup, if we’re gonna win this!” Rhys started. Jack glanced over with a mildly exasperated expression. 

“Incredible thinking, I had no idea.”

Ignoring Jack’s jab, Rhys continued. 

“–The signal for the ECHOpads is jammed but if we can reset the network the blockage will clear. The station’s total power reset button is up in the office, it'll reset the Net. It’ll also kill the turrets but that’s a risk we have to take. After it resets, the signal will be clear!” Rhys shouted, bumping Jack’s shoulder. Jack glanced over at him, blood dripping off the shiny chin clasp of his mask. A light flashed behind his eyes and he grinned.

“Maybe you do have incredible thinking!” He laughed. Rhys smiled as assurances came rushing back to his mind. Yeah, this fight would be no problem. As a stray grenade bounced near both Rhys and Jack’s heels, in almost unison both men slid behind a chunk of fallen debris, cringing at the blast. As the dust cleared, Rhys surveyed the hub, ECHOeye variously scanning factors of people and bots. 

Sirens sporting bright red and blue hair waded through Hyperion forces, sending blasts of siren energy ripping through ranks. Rhys watched curiously as Lilith pointed towards the south end of the hub and shouted something to her blue counterpart. Her blue-haired comrade briefly clapped Lilith’s on the shoulder, before whirling on a heel and storming towards the south corridor, fists alight with crackling energy. What…?

“Sonofa–” Jack sprang to his feet, glaring at the glowing women across the room. Rhys clambered to his feet as Jack raised his gun. 

“They’re up to something–” he hissed as the blue-haired siren disappeared down the corridor from sight. He turned to Rhys. 

“Go! Get to the office and hit the reset switch, we need that backup!”

“Yeah but I’m not leaving you down here! Either you come with me, or I stay and fight here with you!” Rhys argued furiously. He was not gonna let Jack saunter off into a battle and get himself killed again. Jack rolled his eyes. 

“Not the time for heroics, Rhysie–”

Jack broke off and Rhys’s eyes widened as a flash of light caught the edges of their vision. Both turned to observe Lilith’s golden hawklike eyes, settling onto both of them from across the hub. Bright, angry and glowing. She took a step forward.

“Get going! I’ll hold her off,” Jack ordered, wiping a smear of blood from his mask. Glancing between Jack and Lilith, Rhys knew what he needed to do. He hated the thought. Furiously, Rhys reached over and seized the lapels of his jacket and dragged him forwards into a heated kiss. The lips of Jack’s mask were unusually warm, a taste of coppery blood filling Rhys’s senses. Jack grinned. Rhys wiped his sleeve across his mouth, smudging the bloodstains now wringing his lips.

“Meet me on the thirteenth floor armory in ten, I need to pick up more ammo,” Rhys released his grip on Jack’s collar. Jack shoved him backwards, cracking a grin.

“Deal. Now get going!” he whirled around aiming a pistol at the siren’s fiery form as she promptly vanished into a phasewalk halfway across the floor. Rhys stumbled backwards and cast one more fleeting glance at the havoc in the hub, Lilith throwing a punch towards Jack as he danced out of the way with a laugh.

“Ten minutes,” Rhys murmured to himself before turning tail and sprinting down the nearest corridor.

—————-

Thirteenth floor pit stop. Thirteen flights of stairs. The fight had spread upwards, filling the second and third floor. Sparse lone intruders had broken through the lines of loader bots and Rhys suffered the pleasantries of being caught off guard by a sneaking Raider or Tediore stepping out from behind corners and alcoves. 

Luckily, Rhys’s shield was a powerful one and his aim was a force to be reckoned with. As he shot down yet another soldier rounding the flight of stairs, he swung around to the next set of stairs. His thighs were beginning to burn as thirteen flights of stairs was no easy task. As Rhys flew up the seventh flight, a massive tremor shook the floor beneath his feet. Legs weak, he staggered into the wall for support as his debris littering the floor began to vibrate. A deafening explosion erupting nearby rocked his senses. A piercing squeal throbbed in his ears as a dizziness washed over his bones. Rhys stumbled out from the stairwell towards the seventh floor exit. 

Staggering into the doorframe for support, he wiped the sweat from his eyes and gazed out into the open floor of Helios’s seventh level. Jaw dropping, Rhys stared in awestruck, unbelieving horror at the destruction before him. 

Massive, roaring purple flames burned across the floor, singing a line of loader bots. Across the way, a massive eridium explosion had ripped a gaping hole in the steel side of the space-station leading out into the pitch black void of space. The explosion hadn’t broken Helios’s external gravity barrier, thank god. Safety protocols kept the station from collapsing in on itself through the _ massive fucking space-hole in the wall. _

This was bad. Really bad. Processed eridium mixed with minimal other ingredients powered this whole damn space-station. Hell, the moonshot core was composed of _ pure, _unbridled, raw eridium power. Eridium fire exploding through Helios and ripping holes in the wall meant a multitude of terrible, bad things.

Best case scenario: some idiot had shot bullets into a processed eridium pipeline causing a reaction of chemicals to form a relatively small eridium explosion. (Yet still somehow managed to rip a goddamn whole into the side of the space station) 

Worst case scenario: the moonshot power core, of pure, unbridled, raw eridium power was destabilizing. Most likely from the presence of two, overpowered supercharged sirens aboard the space station.

After all, the blue haired siren had disappeared down the south corridor, towards the direction of the moonshot. Oh no...she couldn’t have...she wasn’t...she wasn’t going for the core, was she?

Rhys desperately hoped this was a scenario of the former. His time to ponder uselessly about the eridium situation was up. The number of bullets left in his clips was dwindling fast. He had to reach that thirteenth floor armory, and quickly. 

Turning his back on the massive fucking hole torn through the side of Helios, Rhys took a massive inhale before whirling around back to the stairwell and pushing himself up the next flight of stairs. 

\-----------

Rhys burst out of the thirteenth floor stairwell, lungs burning and chest heaving. He mopped the sweat off his forehead and gasped for air, hands on his knees. Straightening up, he found himself looking down a corridor. The hall was a rather plain average Helios corridor save for the swarm of loader bots patrolling the eerily empty hall. Rhys inhaled a massive breath of air and rubbed his hands before dashing down the way. His coat tails flapped behind him as he pushed past the squeaky-jointed bots and took several lefts before he screeched to a halt at a large, armored black door. 

He nearly pummeled the keypad into oblivion punching in the access code. With a pleasant beep, the doors slid open, revealing the armory concealed behind. 

The room was rather small, barely twelve feet wide, fifteen feet long. The walls were lined with weaponry, shields, grenades, anything you can dream of. As the dim lights flickered on, Rhys entered the safe room and spun around, pressing a button on the inside, closing the doors. With the doors now closed blocking the outside, an eerie, muffled silence drowned Rhys’s ears. The commotion outside couldn’t reach him in here. 

With a short-term sense of relief, Rhys scanned the room with his ECHOeye, searching for the right box of ammunition. As he refilled his clips, his mind was racing. So much had managed to go so wrong. And where was Jack? Was he still alive? Had he managed to hold off Lilith? Fear clouded his mind despite his steady composure. There was no way off Helios, the hangar was blocked. Help wouldn’t be showing up anytime soon. On top of that, the space station was now suffering eridium explosions ripping holes into outer space. 

Oh. And there was a line of soldiers working their way up the floors, cleaving their way through Hyperion lines. 

_ No. Hyperion will not lose. I’m not going to die here. _Rhys thought furiously, plucking a second pistol from the wall and strapping the gun to his belt for good measure. 

Hearing the beep of the lock disarming and the armory doors grinding open, Rhys whirled around, gun raised in a steady hand of apprehension. He dropped his arm as Jack stumbled into the room, a winded bloody mess. Jack punched the inside button and the doors slid shut behind his bedraggled form. Well at least one of Rhys’s worries was quenched.

“You’re here! Where’s Lilith?” Rhys stepped forwards, as Jack swayed on his feet. Wiping a splatter of blood from his mask, Jack cracked a smile. 

“I managed to hold her off for a while. Until the eight floor, actually. Then I slipped away,” Jack gestured weakly at his pocket watch for explanation. Rhys watched in fear as Jack’s chest heaved and he suddenly sagged to the floor, sliding down the nearest wall leaving a smear of blood. 

“Fuck! Are you hurt?” Rhys exclaimed, kneeling at Jack’s winded side and holding out a hand. 

“No–no I’m fine, just really...really out of breath,” Jack inhaled with a groan, grasping Rhys’s outstretched hand. 

“Nobody told me how fucking hard it is to run up thirteen flights of stairs,” he managed out, through heaving breaths. Beads of sweat rolled down his throat. 

“Well, I hope you’re ready for nine more,” Rhys jovial smile was rather dark. Jack shifted on the ground. 

“Son of a–argh–” 

Rhys held out his metal arm for support. Jack grabbed a hold of his wrist and Rhys hoisted him to his unbalanced feet. Brushing his bloodied self off, Jack inhaled deeply. 

“We gotta get to that reset button, fast,” he mopped his forehead and sauntered over to a crate of ammunition. 

“Did you see that hole on the eighth floor?” Rhys asked, trailing behind him. Jack shook a few bullets into his gun. 

“Oh yeah, baby. That was a siren’s work,” he exhaled, chuckling. Despite his usual smooth response, Rhys could detect an undertone of fear ringing in his voice. Jack whirled around. 

“Lilith’s sent her little siren friend Maya over to the moonshot power core,” Jack growled. 

“You don’t mean–that siren–Fuck! Then we gotta kill Maya!” Rhys exclaimed. Jack let out a hearty laugh, readjusting his pocket watch which had hung crooked over his lapel. 

“Unfortunately, I’m not suicidal. We’d be vaporized instantly if we went after Maya. All that eridium power in the core? Use your brain, Rhysie. With the unstable power core, she’d have the crazy power to rip through us just like that–” Jack snapped his fingers for emphasis. 

“No going after the big bad blue siren lady. We gotta call backup and get to the hangar. However many Helios residents that can get there in time is the best we can do. But we seriously have to get to the friggin’ reset button,” Jack straightened his shoulders, flicking away a slice of viscera sliding down the front of his jacket. 

“All right. Sounds great. Fantastic. Nothing can go wrong,” Rhys exhaled a deep sigh of hopelessness. Jack grinned. 

“That’s the spirit! Now here–catch!” 

With a swift cybernetic arm, Rhys snatched the blocky object from the air that Jack tossed at him. 

“Oxygen mask. With Helios getting holes torn in its side, these bad boys might come in handy,” Jack explained, tucking his own oxygen mask into one of his many jacket pockets. Rhys nodded, hooking the O2 mask to his belt. As he stepped towards the armory door, Jack followed suit, coming to a rest beside him. Their shoulders brushed and Rhys cracked a teensy smile, flipping his pistol into his hand at the ready. He glanced over at Jack. Jack glanced over at him, a dull light shining in the depths of his eyes. 

He bumped Rhys’s flesh hand before intertwining their fingers and giving Rhys a reassuring squeeze. 

“All we have to do is get to the button. It’ll be fine, we’ll be out of here in no time,” Jack grinned, his assuring charm returning. 

“I know,” Rhys replied automatically. He wasn’t so sure. 

“We get out of this room, hit reset, kill a couple bandits and sirens. Easy. Now come on, baby!” Rhys released Jack’s hand and turned to press the door control. As the doors ground open, screaming, explosions and gunfire faded back into Rhys’s hearing range. When both men swept from the safety of the armory with guns blazing and Jack laughing, the horrific sounds of the Helios battle returned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> School's off for two weeks cause of coronavirus so the finale will be out tomorrow :)


	36. Finale

Rhys absolutely fucking hated stairs. The vertical sprint up twenty two goddamn floors made sure of that. By the time Rhys and Jack launched themselves from the armory and back into the fight, the fray had already pushed it’s merry, bloody way to the fourteenth floor.

A wild thrill of satisfaction rippled through Rhys’s veins. He felt powerful, unstoppable. His blood was on fire. Whirling on a heel he put a bullet through the forehead of an Atlas soldier before spinning around and sinking his sharp metal fist into the jaw of a Raider sneaking up on his blind side. 

The violence gave him a thrill. As his gun cut through foes, a hot-blooded shiver ran through his body as he watched corpses fall. His heartbeat roared in his ears, pulse violently throbbing up and down his body. Jamming the tip of his gun underneath the jaw of a soldier not quite fast enough to react. Pulling the trigger and watching his brains paint the air. The sharp metallic tang that stung his nose, choking his senses right after the kill. 

Rhys began to feel lighter and lighter. He feared slipping and floating away. He was long gone. Lost in the violence and thrills of bloodshed. Intoxicating. This whole thing was intoxicating. Like a drug. Everything overwhelming his senses was sending him down into a spinning high, weightlessness lifting his shoulders. Giddiness rode up inside him. He fought to contain himself but soon enough, that high, ridiculous feeling of power and enlightenment came tumbling out in a series of cut, choppy laughter. 

So this is what Jack felt. As Rhys aimed an explosive shot into a crowd of bodies and bots, he arrived at an answer he’d been subconsciously searching for since he first met Jack. 

Why?

Why did Jack find such pleasure in violent, bloody ways?

It was intoxicating. 

Rhys nearly spilled himself over the edge. Through his haze of drugged violence, he could barely remember why he was even here amongst this battle. He was slowly making his way towards the stairwell, Jack at his side letting himself loose with a rifle. A pleasured, violent light touched the edges of Jack’s gaze. Rhys let loose another giddy laugh. 

They weren’t so different, were they?

Rhys burst through the ranks of the fight and flew up the next stairwell, Jack closely following. Rhys glanced behind him. 

“You okay?”

Jack gave a thumbs up and a grin through his winded breath as he leapt up the stairs on Rhys’s tail. 

“Never been–hah–better!”

They managed up to the seventeenth floor before a blazing siren made her glorious entrance once more.

“Found you! And don’t you _ dare _ run away from me, Jack,” Lilith snarled, popping unexpectedly out of existence from the nearest wall and lunging towards Rhys. Rhys gave a startled cry at Lilith’s sudden appearance and stumbled sideways up the next stair with a shot of fear. Luckily, her intent wasn’t focused on him. She leapt past him, foot slamming into his ankle on the way past for good measure. Rhys cursed, staggering up the final step to the twentieth floor landing while palming his gun. He whirled around and blindly fired off his pistol towards the blazing woman lunging at Jack farther down the stairs.

“Took you long enough to find me! ‘Cause newsflash, hun, you’re not the only one with the power to disappear–ohholy shit!” Jack ducked under Lilith’s fist and dodged to the stairwell railing as Rhys’s wayward shots missed him by an inch, singing his hair on the way past. 

“Do I look like a bloody glowing woman to you!” Jack snarled incredulously, using the precious seconds of Lilith being preoccupied and staggering up the steps to stand beside Rhys. Jack shoved Rhys’s shoulder with a grumble and Rhys muttered an unintelligible apology. Lilith whirled around, now at the bottom of the stair flight looking up at the two men on the landing. The heat of her blazing wings filled the air, power crackling and leaping like wild lightning. Rhys felt himself begin to suffocate. He shoved Jack towards the next stairwell.

“Go! Come on, we’re almost there!”

Bullets from Lilith’s SMG nipped Rhys’s ankles, gradually beginning to weaken his shield. He swore violently while rounding the next flight of stairs. Jack suddenly paused and Rhys rushed past, unable to slow down. 

“What are you doing! Come on!” Rhys halted at the top of the stairs glaring down at Jack from the landing. Four steps below Rhys, Jack pulled the pin from a grenade in his hand before chucking the bomb down the stairway. Rhys watched it bounce down the steps just as an infuriated Lilith came rounding the corner. 

“Go! Go!” Jack scrambled up the few steps, grabbing Rhys’s arm and yanking him onwards. Rhys obliged, shaking off Jack’s grip as the two bolted up the next flight of stairs. Stumbling, Rhys flinched as the ground shook and debris danced from the grenade blast a flight below them. He slowed for only a heartbeat but Jack dragged him forwards, rounding the corner to the next stair flight. Rhys struggled to speak through winded breathing.

“Do you think she’s dead–”

“Hell no! She’s a friggin’ siren, the blast will have only slowed her down,” Jack insisted as they approached the eighteenth floor. Rhys cast a glance behind them. Lilith was nowhere to be found, she must have fallen back.

“We’re almost there, keep moving!” Jack’s grip tightened on Rhys’s flesh wrist, urging him onwards to the next set of stairs. Rhys’s thighs were burning. The heavy tang of smoke filled his senses. He was drenched in blood, chest heaving as he managed out ragged breaths. Bounding up the twentieth flight of stairs, he dragged a hand across his forehead, smearing away a mixture of viscera, sweat and blood. 

As the raggled pair stumbled to the twentieth floor landing, a golden glow snagged Rhys’s attention from the edges of his vision. He stared wide-eyed in exhausted horror back down the stairwell whence they came as the light’s intensity began to rise. Smothering heeat curled around the edges of his vision and he felt the atmosphere crackle with energy. Lilith was back on her feet. 

Damnit, all they needed was time. A distraction. Something to keep the angry siren at bay for long enough to call in backup. Rhys glanced at Jack, who was keeled over, gathering his breath with a scowl.

They wouldn’t even reach the office with the murderous, super powered siren riding their tail. 

“That was my last grenade,” Jack muttered, hand patting the empty space on his belt. Rhys cursed. They needed something and they needed something fast. 

_ C’mon Rhys, use that pretty little head of yours. _

He glanced to his left, glancing down the hallway onto the twentieth floor. Dead empty. Not a soul in sight. Shit. If only there was a troop of loader bots around...too bad they were all stuck fighting on the fourteenth and fifteenth floors. 

Rhys’s attention was sparked by the thin outlines of grooved alcoves along the twentieth floor hallway. Rectangles traced into the upper wall, near the ceiling. An exhausted smile cracked across Rhys’s expression. 

Bingo! Inactivated bots. 

“Give me a second!” Rhys shouted at Jack as the other man had begun to move towards the next flight of stairs. 

Rhys held out a flat metal palm, ECHOeye springing to life. He focused on the alcoves, observing the ECHOeye’s electric blue shading outline the rectangles near the ceiling. Glancing down at the holographic projection in his hand, he grinned, seeing the bot access code flicker into view. He flicked his thumb across the projected button and let his arm fall to his side with a sense of satisfaction. He stumbled back a few steps, bumping into Jack’s shoulder as he watched the alcoves in the hallway silently slide out of place. 

“Oh my god you’re a genius,” Jack breathed as a group of clunking, armed bots marched unfolded and marched down the hallway towards their staircase. 

Behind Rhys and Jack, the siren energy was growing brighter by the second. Both men staggered backwards as loader bots entered the stairwell and immediately turned down the stairs. A disorganized clamor of,

_ “Intruder alert. Opening fire.” _

Rose from the collection of bots as they began to clunk down the stairs. 

“That should do it! Let’s go!” Rhys leapt up the next stairs to the twenty first floor, Jack following suit with a low chuckle rumbling from his chest. 

“Y’know Rhysie? I think we have a chance after all.”

Rhys beamed.

“Yeah? Well keep moving, we don’t have much time,” he cast a glance over his shoulder at Jack’s bloodied, yet determined form. 

As they leapt up the stairs, Rhys felt the crackling tension of siren powered atmosphere cease, slowly ebbing to a faint thrumming behind them as he and Jack rounded the stairs to the final flight. Good. Lilith had fallen far behind under that slew of loader bots. 

Rhys leapt up the final step and burst into the hallway of the twenty second floor. The office was located at the opposite end of the floor from the stairwell. They were almost there. One final sprinting zigzag through the hallways to the finish. Rhys paused for a moment, glancing at Jack who stumbled to a halt beside him. Both men turned to glance back down the stairwell from whence they came. 

Cringing, Rhys flinched as a fiery roaring blast shook the floor under his feet, echoing up the stairwell.

“Angry siren! Let’s get outta here fast, I don’t feel like getting a symbol punched into my face twice in my life by that bitch,” Jack grunted, speeding up and taking off down the corridor. Rhys followed his lead as they sprinted through the hallways. 

They arrived at the office doors in no time. Rhys skidded to a halt, nearly crashing into Jack. The sliding doors were the final obstacle between Rhys and fixing Helios’s destined destructive fate. 

"Eye...door...now,” Jack ordered, keeling over with his hands on his knees while gasping for breath. 

“Yeah...yeah I know–” Rhys stepped back to bring the door into his full view, scanning the sealed entrance with his ECHOeye. He expectantly observed the door controls flicker to life in the palm of his hand. Swiping a finger through the hologram projecting from his fist, the doors slid open on command.

“I forgot how cool that was,” Jack muttered fleetingly before rushing forwards and ducking through the connector, emerging in the office, Rhys at his heels. 

“I got the reset button!” Rhys announced, dashing across the floor over to the desk. He stumbled feeling the floor beneath his feet give a violent shake as another eridium blast rocked the station several floors down. The lights in the office flickered wildly. 

“Well then hurry it up, kitten!” Jack tensed, warily backing up as he faced the door.

Rhys whirled around to the desk, hands raised and already pulling the holographic screen from midair. Seeing the electric blue outlines unfold before him, he frantically swiped a hand across the screen, searching for the reset button.

“Oh fuck me sideways and–” Jack swore from across the room. Rhys’s head jerked up at his angry outburst. Jack was standing in front of the desk. He was amidst the action of refilling his gun clip when he flicked the pistol back faster than Rhys could follow, settling the bullets inside his gun and aiming towards the office door. 

Because holy shit, the whole ass metal door was being pried open by a set of glowing orange, heavily tattooed fingers. 

Lilith was never going to cease her persistence. She had a mission, she had a motive and she wanted revenge. She was stubborn, she wouldn’t rest until either herself or Jack was dead. 

Rhys’s eyes flicked back down to the holographic control panel under him.

“Heya cupcake, y’know that reset button is looking real sexy right now,” Jack gritted his teeth, backing up several steps as the office door groaned. He popped off several shots towards the fingers wrenching open the door but to no avail as they glanced off Lilith’s shield. 

“Yeah–Yeah I know!” Rhys replied furiously. Panic was beginning to bubble in his gut as his hands flew across the screen. Swiping furiously, he was growing desperate. Where the hell was that goddamned button? 

His fingers swiped across the screen so quick he almost missed the shiny red projection in the interface. 

“Got it!”

He slammed his metal fist through the _ Helios Systems Reset _ button.

The hologram dissolved in an instant as the systems across the space station powered down. 

Across Helios, turrets fell still and loader bots lagged. Wailing alarms screeched to a halt as power systems shifted offline. 

Inside Rhys’s ECHOeye, he could see the streams of code flooding through Helios security systems, overriding the power and resetting lines of code. The power reset should only last a minute or two at the most. Once back online, Rhys would be able to send out a transmission for backup and an escape off a deteriorating Helios. 

But before backup and escape were possible they needed about two minutes, max. Under ordinary circumstances this would have been no problem. However, there was an angry blazing siren about to burst into the room and murder them in hot rage. Great. 

Rhys’s head jerked up at the audible crack of a bullet and the sudden surge of crackling energy filling the atmosphere to the brim with leaping electricity. 

“There’s nowhere left for you to run,” Lilith snarled, shoving the door metal aside and storming to the center of the office, fists clenched by her side. Her gun had been discarded. Billowing siren feathers of fiery gold splayed out from either shoulder. She cracked her knuckles and grinned, eyes alight with more than just fury. 

“Well you’ve certainly chosen a spectacular location to die! I mean–Handsome Jack’s office! Kind of a special grandeur here, I can’t lie!” Jack fired back, flashing his teeth in a wild, twisted grin. He raised his pistol and aimed Lilith down the sights. Orange crackling energy swirled about her curled fists.

“Say hi to Roland for me in hell,” Jack jeered, firing off a shot hurtling towards Lilith’s exposed body. 

And two things happened at once. 

Firstly, the office door, which had been pried open by Lilith slammed shut behind her with a bang as the lights overhead went dark in the blink of an eye. Rhys let out a surprised yell and stumbled backwards, crashing into the yellow chair behind the desk. His ECHOeye didn’t need to fire up nightvision in order for him to see clearly due to the woman in the center of the room glowing brighter than the fucking sun. 

What happened? Why did the lights fail and the door close? He’d only shut down Helios’s systems, not the whole facility’s fucking power!

The only logical conclusion was that someone from the outside had interfered with Helios’s power. 

Secondly, Lilith threw up a phaselock bubble faster than Rhys could follow, completely halting Jack’s gunshot. With impossible speed, she suddenly lunged forwards towards an off-guard Jack, burning eridium curled around her fist. 

“Jack! Lookout–” Rhys leapt over the desk and bounced onto the floor, pistol in hand. He stepped forwards and angrily watched Jack side-step Lilith’s fiery swing. Jack stumbled backwards, gun aimed at her blazing form with a snarl. Rhys instantly materialized at Jack’s side before Lilith could make her next move, gun drawn and ready to assist.

“I told you to stay out of this Strongfork,” Lilith hissed, whirling around. Her blazing golden gaze was suddenly fixated on Rhys, watching his every move with hawklike detail. He gulped under the pressure of her piercing gaze.

“Hey! You come after me, you get both of us. It’s a package deal–” Jack half scoffed. 

Rhys suddenly felt incredibly small under the powerful siren’s gaze. The fury of a thousand suns lit the fires roaring in her eyes with a haze of predatory violence. Rhys suddenly felt very trapped in the dim light of the sealed office, eridium power radiating outwards from the beacon before him. 

He tensed, fingers tightening on the grip of his gun, rolling onto his heels as he feared Lilith’s next move. Because oh fuck, her next move would most definitely be on him.

She moved impossibly fast, faster than Rhys could follow. One moment Rhys was tensed, beside Jack and the next he’d been slammed into the nearest bay window in a brilliant flash of light. Rhys gasped for air, feeling the wind rush from his lungs and head bash against the glass with a ringing smash of agony. Hissing, his pistol clattered from his fingertips. Through a haze of pain and watered eyes he gritted his teeth, a golden glow settling about his wavy vision. Lilith stood before him, blazing as ever. 

_ Why hasn’t she killed me? She could have strangled me by now _. Rhys observed through a throbbing pain stabbing the back of his skull. Blood dribbled down his neck. 

Bewilderment clouded his thoughts as Lilith ignored him and whirled around, marching back across the room towards Jack, who’d been thrown aside from the blast of eridium energy. He was rising to his feet, bruised but still kicking.

Lilith had left Rhys alive, which was a big mistake. She hadn’t even kicked the pistol away, still lying faithfully next to his foot. 

_ What a rookie mistake. _Rhys thought triumphantly. She’d even turned her back to him, leaving herself completely vulnerable. Fucking idiot. Feeling a chuckle in his chest, Rhys tried to stoop and collect the gun off the ground. 

Keyword: tried. 

Rhys strained to move his arms. He felt as though he were pushing against a cement wall. The horror dawned on him; he was paralyzed, frozen and stuck. His smug confidence was quickly replaced with panic that welled in his chest as he strained yet again to move any part of his body. This time he made a fruitless attempt to kick out his leg. 

Nothing.

The reality finally hit him and he realized the orange haze clouding his vision wasn’t a concussed side effect of slamming his head against the glass. No, he had a _ literal _orange translucent bubble encasing him. A jolt of fear shot through his body as he realized the circumstances of his situation. He’d been phaselocked. 

An awful suffocating fear tightened in his chest. He couldn’t even wrench his jaw open to speak. He was utterly helpless. He could do nothing but fearfully watch Lilith and Jack dance across the room. Events unfolded before him like a twisted stage of theater. There was no use struggling against the siren power pinning him in place and he could do nothing against it. 

All he could do was watch Jack warily stalk around Lilith as she moved counterclockwise around the room from him. They circled each other like hawks, each one bouncing on their toes, waiting for the other to react. 

“Come on, jackass,” Jack taunted with a sneer.

“C’mon–”

Jack made the first move. He planted his feet to the floor and raised his gun, firing off several shots at his glowing target. She lunged forwards, bullets smashing against her shield in a direct hit, shattering her protection in a matter of seconds. Dodging to the left, her right fist went swinging across in a clean swipe, through Jack’s blindside and knocked his weapon from his grip. The gun went skittering across the floor a few feet away. Jack made a reach for her throat as she entered strangling range but she ducked under his slow arm and sank a fast glowing fist into his abdomen. 

Rhys couldn’t even let out a strangled yell as Jack was knocked to the floor right onto his back with a painful thud. He furiously hissed in pain, about to roll upright to his feet when he froze lying still on the cold floor. Rhys watched helplessly as Lilith suddenly had Jack’s gun in hand, aimed straight for his forehead. Her booted foot was jammed against his ribs, sinking into the very place she’d punched him. Adding salt to the wound. Jack’s masked expression contorted into pain. 

“You _ bloody _ friggin’ _ worthless _ bandit,” Jack snarled, breath ragged as he spat on the siren pinning him down with one foot. 

“Lemme guess, you’re gonna shoot me dead, which–by the way–newsflash, you’ve already killed me once and that didn’t really work out too well for ya’,” Jack jeered, mouth twisted into a toothy grin while blood dribbled in between his teeth from a busted upper lip. 

“I don’t know how the hell you came back, nor do I care,” Lilith growled in response, triumph lacing the edges of her tone. 

“Oh you’re gonna care, cause I’ll just pop right back up again, baby! Even if you kill me here,” Jack’s smug grimace widened in pain as Lilith's boot jabbed harder into his wounded ribs. She grinned, looming over his helpless form pinned to the floor. 

“Funny about that, actually. It’s not just you dying here, it’s everyone. I’m bringing down Helios as well,” Lilith proclaimed. Jack’s facade slipped for a moment. 

“Oh really?” His faltered expression suddenly re-hardened. Lilith’s muscled shoulders rolled back as she spread a hand. 

“I’ve already sent Maya to take out the moonshot power core. She’s destabilized it by now. The eridium’s already ripping holes in Helios and knocking out power,” laughter bubbled at the edges of Lilith’s tone. 

“That eridium power core powers the whole station! Now that it’s going haywire, everything's been shut down. Everything! Power...oxygen...gravity shields...they’re all running out. I’m not even gonna do anything, this station’s gonna rip itself apart without those gravity shields. But first it’ll burn. I can feel the eridium at this very moment. The core is reaching its peak, it’s gonna explode. This whole station’s gonna _ burn _,” Lilith spat with a hint of triumph and fury.

For a split second Jack was silent as he processed the siren’s words. The edges of his mouth curved upwards in a crude smile. 

_ “Then you’re gonna burn with me.” _

His left hand suddenly swung up out of nowhere, swiping at the ankle pinning him to the floor. There was a flash of silver as the pocket knife hidden up Jack’s sleeve cleaved straight through Lilith’s boot, sinking into the soft flesh of her ankle. She let out a strangled roar of pain not unlike a wounded animal as the knife sliced into bone, lodging into her foot. Jack surged upwards with a grunt as his gun fell from her hands. He was instantly on his feet as Lilith stumbled backwards with a pained growl, blade embedded firmly in her ankle. 

Blood pooled along the floor, splattering the carpet. 

The golden haze surrounding Rhys’s vision dissolved and he gasped, stumbling forwards and nearly toppling to the floor as the pressure of Lilith’s phaselock dissolved around him. With a sudden rush of adrenaline flooding his veins, he stooped and collected his gun from the floor, staggering forwards towards Lilith and Jack. Fury seethed from every pore of his body as his face contorted into a snarl. He raised his pistol, ECHOeye sights flickering into view. 

How fucking dare she? 

As Lilith gathered one final bright flame into her fist, Rhys squeezed the trigger of his gun. She flinched as a bullet slammed into her tattooed arm, the flames around her fist extinguishing with a hiss. Rhys’s second bullet shot clean through her left ankle. Ankles broken, she had nowhere to hit but the floor. With a pained roar she collapsed onto her knees, blood pouring from her wounds. Her fists trembled.

“Jack!” 

Rhys bounded across the carpet, halting several feet away from Lilith’s crumpled form. A trickle of blood dribbled into his eye but he quickly wiped it away, smearing his cheek. He watched in a mixture of fascination, horror and satisfaction as Jack stooped and seized Lilith by the collar of her short jacket with a bloody, rough hand, forcing her chest upright. A furious, pained sneer twisted across her expression as blood pumped steadily from her wounds, collecting about her knees in a brilliant red puddle. Jack smiled pleasantly, a wild light behind his eyes. He jammed the barrel of his gun under her chin against the soft vulnerable skin of her throat. 

“You’ve got a date with Roland, sweetheart,” he chimed sing-songedly, releasing the tight grip on her jacket yet continuing to force her chin upwards with his gun tip. With his free hand he brushed a lock of flaming red hair from her furious, hateful eyes.

“Better look nice for him, you know?” 

“Don’t touch me–scum,” she growled, teeth gnashing in fury. In a blur, her uninjured hand came swinging from the left in a blur but Jack’s finger on the trigger of his gun was much quicker. 

A loud _ bang _echoed around the office as a splatter of blood shot across the carpet. Jack stepped back in disgust as Lilith’s limp, broken body fell to the ground, a bullet hole ripped through the top of her skull. Rhys’s mouth fell open unconsciously as blood roared in his ears staring dumbly at the siren’s corpse lying coldly on the floor.

Jack had...Jack had...done it. At long last...Lilith was dead, her eyes sightlessly bulging and her mouth open in fury even after death. Rhys watched in fascination as the glowing tattoos decorating her corpse bled from her skin, dissolving into thin air, leaving the flesh of her arm bare and unmarked. 

A peculiar tingling sensation pricked the skin of Rhys’s body, a strange refreshing ripple flowing through his mind. Purity. There was a split second of blood rushing in his ears and a flash of excruciating pain washing through his body. He bit back a pained hiss and cringed. Then the feeling subsided as quick as it rose. 

She was dead. 

“Rhys!” Jack’s energetic yell snapped Rhys from his stupor. He turned in a daze, still barely processing everything that had just occurred. His gun slipped from his fingers, an odd calm settling over him as Jack’s bloody face swam before him. 

“Ja–oof–”

Rhys was nearly knocked from his feet as Jack crashed into him, throwing his arms around Rhys’s shoulders and burying his face in his shoulder. The strong metallic scent of blood and sweat overwhelmed Rhys’s senses. 

“Are you okay?” Jack mumbled through the fabric of Rhys’s shirt. Rhys blinked in surprise before cautiously running his fingers through the back of Jack’s hair. He closed his eyes, feeling an odd fleeting sense of repose.

“Yeah...yeah I’m fine–”

“You sure? You were in that phaselock for a friggin’ long time–I got worried–”

“Jack, I’m alright,” Rhys patted his back before softly pushing him away. Jack still kept a firm grip on Rhys’s forearms with a concerned look. 

It was then Rhys realized just how dark the room was. Right. The power was out and the glowing siren that had lit the room was dead. Scratch that, actually, all of Helios was out. The entire space station was shut down. Rhys quickly shook his head and glanced beyond Jack’s shoulder. A soft frown littered Jack’s mask. 

“We have to get out of here,” Rhys began, frantic thoughts suddenly shooting through his mind. Fear stabbed his heart. Lilith wasn’t bluffing when she spat about how Helios was being torn apart. The power core–all that eridium–they didn’t have long before it erupted, exploding this space station to bits. If they couldn’t get off Helios, they’d be nothing but space dust. 

Rhys had a new daunting cloud in the back of his mind. He couldn’t explain this peculiar sensation...he described the sense as more of a gut feeling. 

And right now that gut feeling was screaming internally how the moonshot’s eridium power core was nearing its peak. They’d be blown to all hell if the two of them didn’t get off this space station _ right now. _

“We have to get to the hangar!” Rhys exclaimed, adrenaline suddenly rocking him from his dazed stupor. Panicked thoughts were running wild through his mind. Desperation pulsed in his veins as the office suddenly felt more like a prison than a familiar sense of home.

Of course Rhys was fully aware they wouldn’t be able to reach the hangar before Helios exploded, nevermind hijack or board the ships their attackers arrived on. But he simply didn’t accept that. 

He turned away from Jack’s lingering touch and bounded over to the office exit, ECHOeye firing up. Expectantly waiting for the blue traces to find the coded commands for the door in his ECHOeye, he found nothing which further raised his levels of dread.

Escaping through the exit door was impossible, the streams of code simply didn’t appear. They were shut down. 

In one last ditch attempt, Rhys attempted to wedge his metal fingers between the door and the doorframe. Straining, he found gripping a grasp was impossible, his fingers scrabbled uselessly over the surface. He wouldn’t even have the power to shove the heavy, locked metal door open if he _ did _manage to get a solid grip. 

“Shit!” He hissed, blinking furiously as the back of his head throbbed. 

“Hey! Come help me get this open!” Rhys glanced over his shoulder at Jack, who was standing immobile in the center of the office. Faint purple lights from space outside filtered through the bay window silhouetting his broad figure in a reddish-blue glow. He hadn’t moved an inch at Rhys’s outburst. He was silent.

“Are you even listening to me?” Rhys cried out in frustration, abandoning his attempts on the door and whirling around to face Jack incredulously. 

“There’s no point. With no power, the station’s on lockdown.”

For a moment, Rhys stared at Jack in dumb silence. Then he crossed the floor in a matter of seconds, seizing him by his lapels. 

“What’s wrong with you!” Rhys hissed, panic flooding his tone. Desperation was clawing at his throat. They were going to _ live. _ They _ needed _to live. 

Yet he knew Jack was right. Jack was always right. 

“We have to _ go _–”

“Rhys, it’s impossible,” Jack abruptly interrupted Rhys’s desperate snarl. He raised a hand and closed his fingers around Rhys’s trembling fist clutching his collar. 

Of course Rhys knew their escape was impossible. I mean, eridium fire was about to rip through Helios in a couple minutes from now and Rhys could practically feel the eridium energy rising in the atmosphere, even here in the office. But hearing “_ impossible _” from Jack’s mouth was different. The word slammed Rhys in the gut. He suddenly couldn’t breathe, feeling his chest tighten. Fear shot through his veins yet he forced himself to remain composed. Heaving a deep breath, 

“This isn’t like you–You’re Handsome Jack! Nothing’s impossible!” Desperation and raw fear laced Rhys’s voice and he didn’t bother masking his emotions. Jack remained calm, his usual charming smile lightly touching his features.

“Y’know, when I opened the Vault–”

“This isn’t the time for heroic stories!”

“–Listen to me.”

Rhys clamped his mouth shut and glared at Jack. 

“When I opened the Vault that ruined my face, I gained a lot of knowledge. How to cleanse Pandora was one...and the other was...death. My death. Unfortunately it’s all playing out right now. I thought maybe I could change it...but everything’s falling in line exactly as I foresaw it...Lilith falling...and then me getting friggin’ eaten alive by eridium flames,” Jack spat out. He glared down at Rhys with a strange expression in his eye. His gaze softened. 

“I’m sorry Rhys...there’s not much we can do...” Jack spread his hands, letting loose a small chuckle. Blood stained his teeth.

“Kindova cool way to go, though...purple fire? Hey, at least it’s a flashy death,” he cracked a wavy grin. His eyes dimmed, losing their usual luster, charm. A broken light shone through his gaze. 

Jack was giving up. Of course he was. He was cursed by an irremovable Vault scar. No wonder he believed everything he’d seen in the Vault. There would be no point in reasoning with him. 

Jack never struck Rhys as a 'believe and follow in fate’ sort of man. If anything, Jack was one to go headstrong and laugh fate in the face, forging his own destiny. Yet even someone as strong as Jack fell victim to the Vault’s proclamation of fate smoothly paved before him...well of course he did...the Vault scar was a representation of his irreversible fate. 

But _ Rhys _ hadn’t been in that Vault. There was no way he’d even begin to believe in whatever this “foresaw my own death” mumbo jumbo bullshit was. He was stubborn and addled with fear that forced his mind to churn. He wasn’t going to give up, he found no reason to. 

Well...except for the daunting fact…Jack was right. There was no way out of this fatal situation. There was no way to escape this. 

The brief thought of..._ y’know, if we kill ourselves with a couple bullets...that’d probably be less painful than burned alive by a shit fucking ton of eridium fucking fire. _

Rhys quickly shook suicide out of the question. He didn’t have the drive to pull the trigger on himself. Not while he refused to give up. 

“So...nothing we can do…” he echoed hoarsely, clearing his throat and slowly releasing his grip on Jack’s collar almost apologetically, hands falling to his side in limp fists. He averted his gaze from Jack’s eyes, a hodgepodge of desperation, grief, fear and persistence clawing at his mind. He wanted to clutch his head and fall away into nothingness as emotions overwhelmed his clear thinking. 

“Well...there’s one thing,” Jack straightened up, cutting through Rhys’s hazy unconscious thoughts. Rhys raised an eyebrow as his attention was pulled back towards Jack. Mild humor shone through the cracks of Jack’s grin as he swooped and snagged Rhys’s flesh hand in his own. His other hand found Rhys’s waist. 

“Seriously?” Rhys asked dryly, resisting the urge of a stupid smile. But glaring at Jack’s smug grin, he suddenly found a twisted humor in all this destruction and–to be quite honest–madness. He raised his free hand to Jack’s neck, a dark chuckle slipping past his tight lips. Jack grinned at his compliance.

“Let’s dance baby dance!” 

They stepped into a simple one-two rhythm. Their pace was rather slow as both men were drenched in a fit of fatigue and blood. Rhys found his legs burning in exhausted aches. His head throbbed from being smashed against the bay window earlier. Lifting his gaze to Jack’s expression, he found smears of blood crossing Jack’s mask glowing a faint red hue under the dim purple lights reflecting off his shiny chin clasp. As Jack spun around, he stumbled, foot slipping for an instant.

“Woah!”

Rhys was quick to catch him and in a flash he had Jack straightened back upright. Jack was chuckling madly to himself, loosely clutching the fabric of Rhys’s black overcoat.

Rhys paused, bringing his hand up to the edge of Jack’s mask as Jack paused to catch his breath. 

“It’s...this is all… so pointless,” Jack was chuckling between breaths, nearing a voice crack of mild hysteria. Rhys cracked a wobbly smile, holding back the tide of emotions threatening to crash over his head.

“Well...might as well have a little bit of fun before we go...y’know…" Rhys murmured, words fading to the silence. 

A hollow feeling of dread wrenched open his chest, all too familiar. He could practically feel the eridium pressure building up and curling around them charging the atmosphere.

They were running out of time. 

Jack was still in a fit of chuckling and Rhys could feel his body shaking as he pressed against him. Jack’s face was tilted and leaning into the familiar warmth of Rhys’s palm gently resting against his cheek. 

Something wet rolled over the edge of Rhys’s thumb, foreign and cold, most definitely not blood. 

“...Hey…” Rhys began softly, gingerly untangling his cybernetic hand from Jack’s grasp and bringing his fingers up to rest on the opposite side of Jack’s mask. Jack’s breath came in short, unmistakable shaking gasps. 

“...Are you…?” 

The answer went unspoken as Jack slowly raised his head to meet Rhys’s gaze, sharp brows furrowed furiously. His eyes glittered brighter than ever as tears rolled from his mask’s sockets and soundlessly dripped from his sharp pale cheekbones, 

Tears were something Rhys could never fathom from Jack. Never. Jack wasn’t one to cry, he had no reason to. There was nothing in this universe that could draw tears from Handsome Jack because he always had everything he wanted. To see him cry was...strange...ethereal…especially bathed in a faint purple glow emitting from the stars beyond the window. 

“Had a good run didn’t we, Rhysie, eh?” Jack’s short laugh came forced, struggling through his silent tears. Rhys smiled, the hollowness in his chest stretching wider. Everything was hopeless...empty...desolate. His thumb gently brushed over the cold, sharp curvature of Jack’s cheekbone. Jack lifted his warm hands and quietly placed them near Rhys’s neck. 

“Yeah...it was. I love you, you know that?” Rhys murmured, eyes fluttering shut as the initial terror of their hopeless situation grew numb. He no longer cared. Jack leaned forwards, pressing a kiss to his lips. The comforting, cool sensation of his mask’s lips were laced with unfamiliar blood and salty tears. 

“Oh I know it, sugar and I love you too. We’ll give 'em’ hell from whatever afterlife exists, alright?” Jack murmured, letting the final question hover in the air over their heads.

Rhys snorted, cracking open his eyes. The eridium pressure charging the atmosphere was building. The pressure was like a chord in the back of Rhys’s mind, growing taught as seconds ticked by and time ran short. 

“Of course, handsome,” he nodded faithfully. Jack’s signature grin shone brightly through his river of tears as his fingers curled through Rhys’s hair. Rhys’s vision flashed a blind indigo as he leaned in, relishing in the comforting touch of Jack’s lips one final time before blue flames erupted around them and purple fire ripped through the room with a deafening roar as Helios exploded. 


	37. Epilogue: An Angel Falls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A user on tumblr by the name of levi-prava made fanart of the last chapter [here](https://leva-prava.tumblr.com/post/613221523930710016/so-i-finished-reading-36th-chapter-of-this-cool) please go look at it its incredible thank you so much

Hyperion? Was that some sort of sauce? 

The bandits of Pandora did their best to forget the menacing H in the sky. Hyperion wasn’t a legend taught from child to child, the legacy was one each and every individual decided to bury. Handsome Jack didn’t deserve a legend. He deserved to be forgotten, Rhys beside him. Lilith, however, in her death was hailed a hero, remembered for years to come. 

Helios had rained from the Pandoran sky. The raider and company forces that had launched the destruction barely escaped off the deteriorating space station in time. Amongst their ranks the Vault Hunters, including Maya, the siren who’d initially begun the destabilization of the power core. And as far as the records claimed, no one residing on Helios survived the explosion, nor the fall from the sky into Pandora’s surface at thousands of miles an hour. 

A few charred and flattened bodies had been found in lakes across Pandora and a few had slammed into Elpis. Yet no survivors were anywhere to be found. 

Well...except for one. 

Jack being a very proficient expert in mechanics and engineering had constructed and overseen the entire GORTYS project himself. The little robot was hardwired down to the individual lines of code to protect Angel at all costs with incredible skill. So...thanks to Handsome Jack’s self-proclaimed genius, there had been one single lucky survivor that day. 

GORTYS had launched herself off Helios with Angel safely tucked inside before the station was blown to pieces now scattered about Pandora in an endless orbit. Unfortunately, a slight malfunction from damage sustained by a slew of bullets while traversing across the station mid-battle caused GORTYS’s trajectory to shift. So instead of launching towards a backup Hyperion facility down on Pandora, GORTYS slammed into the side of the bandit Sanctuary. 

When the Vault Hunters returned from their glorious fight above Pandoran sky, they were greeted by a hysterical Scooter in a fretful tizzy. 

Sanctuary was a flying city and GORTYS had crashed into one of the key components which kept the city suspended fair into the air. Scooter was frantically trying to decipher why the city was suddenly dropping six feet every few minutes.

The Vault Hunters leapt to offer a helping hand and immediately set about to search for the problem. ZER0 was the first to find GORTYS. Being a lanky maneuverable assassin, they’d been able to clamber over the side of Sanctuary and down across the jagged underside with ease. At first they thought GORTYS was some sort of bomb and in an air of caution they drew their thin glowing sword. But as the robot began to speak, 

“Oh hello there! Can I have some help?” 

ZER0 quickly called in the others to assist in removing the heavy robot lodged in one of Sanctuary’s core reactors. 

Once ushered into Raider HQ in the safety of the city, the Vault Hunters cautiously, curiously peered at the child who’d come tumbling out of the robot, littered with bruises and knocked unconscious. 

Several days passed before her grand awakening Dr. Zed attended to the child while she slept in a heavily guarded Raider HQ room, faithfully watched over by Tannis and Maya. 

Neither woman had the faintest grasp of a clue where the battered child had come from, nor who the robot GORTYS was. (She’d deactivated after sustaining heavy damage after delivering Angel safely to Sanctuary.) But as Maya rolled up the child’s sleeves to swap out old bandages on Angel’s third day of unconsciousness, she recognized the siren tattoos decorating the child’s arm and immediately put her under round’ the clock surveillance. Maya remained at the unconscious kid-siren’s side for several nights out of an act of protection. 

\----------- 

When Angel finally woke several days later, she had been slammed with a bout of utter confusion. Unable to recognize her surroundings, she called out,

“D–Daddy? Hello? Where am I–”

To which Maya entered the room. There was a soft exchange of conversation as Angel reluctantly, weakly and quietly answered Maya’s questions. 

“What’s your name? I’m here to help.”

“Angel.”

“Do you know where you came from?”

“I–I don’t know,” Angel lied, fear rocking her mind. She cast her gaze anywhere but the blue-haired stranger before her. Sitting upright, she observed several posters tacked around the sparse bedroom in Raider HQ. Mostly propaganda posters declaring a resistance against Handsome Jack. She then smartly realized she was in enemy territory. This woman beside her would hurt her if she found out Handsome Jack was her father. 

Speaking of...where was Jack…?...Surely he would come for her...and save her from these bandits like the big strong hero he was...right?

“Do you recognize these tattoos?” Maya inquired, stretching out her arm ringed with brilliant blue tattoos. Angel’s eyes widened, taking in the intricate detailed ink. 

“You’re a siren too?” She breathed staring at Maya with a new light. Maya gave a warm smile, her blue painted lips curving upwards.

“That’s right. I’m Maya. You’re safe here now, we’ve been giving you treatment. You’ve been asleep for a few days,” Maya explained. Angel then proceeded to struggle out of bed, her legs aching, bandaged and bruised. 

“GORTYS!” Angel suddenly cried out, ignoring the aches of pain in her legs, pushing past the older siren and kneeling by the robot, dim and deactivated in the corner of the room. Maya squatted beside the child and warily eyed the damaged bot.

“Is that it’s name?”

“She’s–She’s dead,” Angel’s voice quivered as she reached out a tattooed hand and stroked one of GORTYS’s metal plates. 

“She’s not dead, she can be repaired and restored, she’s a robot after all,” Maya remained optimistic. Angel sniffed and glanced up at her. 

“You think?”

“Yeah. I know someone who can help,” Maya offered with a warm smile.

See, Maya was curious about where this siren had come from and why she’d appeared quite literally out of nowhere. Perhaps if this bot...deemed “GORTYS” was repaired and her consciousness restored, she’d be able to tell Maya about Angel’s origins.

Maya called in Axton to assist in lugging GORTYS over to Moxxi’s bar. Angel cautiously clung to Maya’s arm and stumbled along as the two sirens accompanied by Axton and GORTYS crossed the dusty street over to Moxxi’s bar. A slight warm breeze washed over Angel as she stepped inside the bar doors. She gingerly followed Maya and Axton to the bar counter at the end of the building, staring wide-eyed at the flashing lights and catchy music filling the atmosphere. 

Axton placed GORTYS on a barstool with a grunt. 

“Jeez that’s heavy.”

Maya motioned for Angel to stand beside her as she slid onto a barstool and flagged down the bartender with a friendly wave. Moxxi was an attractive woman with an intimidating stare of clown makeup. She quickly moved over to greet Maya and then took notice of the small child stationed beside the older siren. She peered over the counter and glared down at Angel. 

“What’s this, sugar?” She addressed Maya curiously, voice soft yet gloriously smooth and rich. Maya leaned across the bar in order to answer Moxxi in a hushed tone. 

“She’s the siren who crashed into Sanctuary a few days ago after we exploded Helios. Her name is Angel and she has a robot transport that’s in disrepair that might be able to tell us more about her. I brought her here because I know you’re good with machines…” Maya trailed off. 

Angel stared up at the adults speaking around her with a newfound sense of fear.

After...they...exploded Helios?

Angel had lived her whole life on Helios! 

And...now she was standing mere inches away from the bandits who’d destroyed it?

Fear rattled her core and her fingers suddenly began to tremble as sheer terror crashed over her thoughts in a choking haze. Her head emptied of all thinking as a lightheaded sensation blossomed through her, paralyzing her in fear. The room around her slowly began to warp and spin in a nauseating way. The atmosphere around her dissolved into a smeared blur before her vision flickered dark as she fainted. 

\-----

When she groggily regained consciousness, she’d been gently propped against the wooden floorboards of the bar, Maya kneeling beside her clutching a small baggie of glowing purple eridium powder. 

“–suffering from eridium withdrawal. I went through the same thing, she’s fine she just–Oh! You’re awake!” Maya beamed, her gaze flicking back down to the shifting child. Angel blearily cracked open her eyes. 

“Sorry…” she mumbled almost automatically. She waved a loose hand.

“–I faint a lot–”

Panic suddenly crossed her childish expression. 

“Wait–no forget I said that...I’m–I’m fine–Daddy doesn’t want people knowing–”

“Whose ‘Daddy’?” Maya asked curiously. Angel stubbornly glued her mouth shut with a snap. Her internal thoughts chided herself in being dumb. 

_ I’m in enemy territory! I shouldn’t be talking about secrets like this! Especially ones that are so important to dad. He’d be disappointed in me. _

“Alright, you don’t have to answer...yet,” Maya chuckled, holding out a tattooed hand to help steady Angel as she stumbled to her feet. Moxxi was peering over the counter at Angel with a new curious light. Her gaze then flicked to GORTYS, which Axton had set on one of the barstools. 

“Maya, I’ll see what I can do about the bot. Angel, sweetheart, do you know anything about your robot’s configuration?” 

Angel immediately perked up at the word 'configuration.’ Finally! Someone here had a good scientist engineer brain like herself!

“I do! She’s got an AI and a four-point-oh config system,” Angel replied, beaming as she spewed the information as though she’d been doing it for years beyond her age. 

“Wonderful, sugar. Maya hun, is it alright if she comes with me to the back? She’ll be able to help get this robot running.”

Maya considered this for a moment before nodding. 

“Just call me when you’re finished.”

“I will. Axton, be a dear and follow me and bring her bot along. Thanks,” Moxxi turned and exited the bar counter, raising two fingers and beckoning Axton and Angel to follow. 

\-----

Axton didn’t stay long. Moxxi shooed him away as soon as he dropped GORTYS in her backroom. Cautiously standing in Moxxi's back room workspace, Angel felt an odd, melancholy sense of familiarity. Of course this gross bandit room was nothing like the cleanly labs of Helios...but the arrays of machinery ringing the room and the tools strewn across work tables gave her a warm feeling of home. On top of that, this Moxxi lady was very nice! Angel was usually very skeptical of ‘bimbos’, dressed up in revealing clothes and lots of makeup (you can thank Jack for that mindset) but Angel was quick to realize Moxxi was much more than a pretty face. 

“I can get your bot up and running in a couple hours,” Moxxi informed Angel, who took a ginger seat at one of the work benches, carefully smoothing out the cloth of her ragged dress. Moxxi raised an eyebrow at Angel’s antsy form, thumbs twiddling and gaze darting about the room with obvious interest. 

“You probably know more about this bot than I do. You want to help me, hon?” 

Angel nodded vigorously, immediately snapping to attention. Moxxi chuckled at the child’s eager response. 

“Alright, then come over here dear…”

\-------

Angel was more than happy to help work on GORTYS. Moxxi was very nice company. She didn’t ask all those interrogative questions like the siren Maya. Angel darted around the room, happily collecting tools for Moxxi as she worked. The woman occasionally hummed a short tune to herself before straightening up and pointing at another tool across the room for Angel to fetch. 

They were three-fourths done with GORTYS’s repair when Moxxi straightened up from the bot, wiping her brow with a wrench still in hand. 

“This is one complicated robot. Looks Hyperion made…” she mused to herself. Then she glanced over at Angel who was quietly perched on the end of a workbench beside her, observing her hands at work. 

“Is it Hyperion made?”

Angel unconsciously nodded at the query. Then she realized her mistake as Moxxi’s eyebrows shot through the roof. 

“Ah...is that why you’re so quiet? You’re from Hyperion?” The woman quickly put two and two together. Angel’s heart suddenly began a thudding drumroll against her ribcage. Her hands trembled. 

“I–I’m...not...–I don’t–I–”

“Of course you are. You crashed into Sanctuary when Helios exploded,” Moxxi rubbed a palm to her forehead leaving a smear of grease.

“I don’t know how Maya wasn’t able to figure that out–”

“–I’m–I’m sorry!” Angel suddenly cried out, bringing her legs up and curling into a ball of fear, swaying back and forth on the rough wood of the bench.

“I’m sorry–I lied–I’m sorry–please don’t hurt me–I’m sorry–bandits–you–”

“Woah, sugar, calm down. I’m not gonna hurt you, sweetie. You’re what–nine years old? You’re a kid,” Moxxi soothed Angel with her voice. She turned to the shaky siren and squatted down to her eye level as she rocked back and forth in distress on the workbench. 

“You’re safe here, it’s alright. Did you escape Helios before the explosion? What happened?” Moxxi asked softly. 

“Y–Yeah...I...did,” Angel began shakily, clutching her knees as tears sprung at the corners of her eyes. When she didn’t elaborate further on her escape, Moxxi continued. 

“I didn’t realize Hyperion was imprisoning siren kids. That’s probably how he was charging that damned Vault Key,” Moxxi’s voice dropped. 

“Handsome Jack, that horrible, horrible man. I’ve seen a lot of things from him but imprisoning kids? That’s a new low, even for someone as f–messed up as him. I’m glad he died in that Helios explosion,” Moxxi scowled, a dark shadow furrowing her expression. 

Angel peered at the clown-faced woman through a curtain of dark stringy hair, anger suddenly surging through her frail body. How dare a meager bandit talk about her great father like that? But were Moxxi’s words true? Had Jack died in the Helios explosion? No, he couldn’t have! He was her father, Handsome Jack! He couldn’t die!

“Handsome Jack’s not horrible!” She blurted out, protesting in an incredulous voice. 

“He’s...not?” Confusion flitted across Moxxi’s expression. Angel stubbornly clamped her jaw shut once more, realizing she was divulging too much. She needed to control her emotions. Irritation bubbled hotly under her skin. 

“Sweetie, what are you saying?” Moxxi almost wore an expression of amusement.

And then Angel abandoned all sense of security as anger stirred in her gut. 

“You can’t talk about him like that, you’re just a dumb bandit,” she glared stubbornly. 

“He’s better than any of you ever will be,” she wrapped her arms around her knees tighter, rocking back and forth on the bench keeping her silver eyes downcast.

Moxxi let out a light laugh. 

“Well little miss someone here’s got a bit of a bias. Is that what they told you up there on Helios?”

“No.”

“Well...then...why do you think he was so great?” Moxxi raised an eyebrow, challenging the frail siren. Angel glared stubbornly at the floor, stringy black hair tumbling in her vision. 

“You can speak freely here...you’re not on Helios anymore,” Moxxi prodded gently. Angel’s gaze suddenly snapped up, childish anger embedded in her voice as short tears filled her vision. 

“You killed my dad.”

“Wh–What?”

“You killed him. You bandits blew up Helios, you killed him. Handsome Jack is dead because of you. So is our friend Rhys. You bandits took away everything from me. My home...my family,” Angel spat, tears threatened to spill over her vision. There was a moment of stunned silence from Moxxi’s end. 

“Jack was...your...father…?” Moxxi asked softly, a strange edge to her tone. Angel nodded furiously, her tattoos beginning to glow with emotion. 

“Oh...oh...that...that makes...a bit of sense now…” Moxxi murmured slowly. Angel’s rising anger was mixed with a prickle of fear. She raised her head; teary, stubborn gaze meeting Moxxi’s colorless eyes. 

“Are you gonna kill me now?”

“I–hon...no. I’m not going to–why would you ever think–”

Angel burst into a full fledged sea of tears as sobs wracked her bruised body. 

“I just want to die. Everyone's dead. Daddy, all my scientist friends...Rhys...GORTYS…I should go too...” Angel wailed, burying her face in her knees. She jerked backwards as a warm hand gently stroked her stringy hair. 

“Hey...Sugar...it’s alright. I said it before and I still mean it: you’re safe here. How about I tell you a little secret alright?” Moxxi withdrew her hand, empathy glittering in her gaze. Angel timidly raised her head just enough to peer at the woman over her knees.

“I used to be...er...intimately...close...with your dad Jack, for a while. It was while he was searching for a Vault, a good few years into his...CEO-ship. He mentioned something about having a kid once...told me it was a very big secret.” 

Angel wiped a hand across her teary eyes. 

“I was the...kid?”

“Yeah. Then me and Jack had a...falling out. I don’t forgive the guy at all but…” Moxxi heaved a great sigh and stared at the ceiling. 

“Jack you stupid bitch–I’ll do you one last favor. Then you owe me big time. I don’t care that you’re dead–sorry about the language, sweetie,” Moxxi smiled apologetically turning her gaze back to Angel. Angel cracked a tiny watery smile. 

“Tell you what, sweetheart. You stay here with me and I’ll take care of you. But we don’t tell the others about your dad or Hyperion. They wouldn’t take it as well as I do,” Moxxi offered slowly. Angel let out one last sniffle before blinking confusedly at Moxxi’s outstretched hand. 

“Live here? With you?”

“Yeah, I figure you’ll probably like it. You seem like quite the engineer yourself and I can teach you some more mechanic stuff if you like,” Moxxi grinned, tipping the tiny hat positioned at the top of her head. Angel stared at the woman before her, suddenly painted in a new light. 

Moxxi knew Jack...Moxxi understood Angel. 

The small siren child outstretched her hand and grasped Moxxi’s, giving a firm shake with tiny fingers, sealing the deal for her new life. 

\----------- 

Angel happily lived on Sanctuary for fifteen years. She kept her origins a secret from the other Vault Hunters and resident Crimson Raiders because if anyone learned that Jack was her father...she’d become a target, no matter how different she became from him and his utterly fucked morals.

Angel took up residence with Moxxi who taught her tools of the trade in repair, mechanics and a drabble of mechanics. GORTYS was fully repaired and functional. She merrily buzzed around everyday, striking up conversation with the local CL4PTR4P and cheerfully nagging Sanctuary residents. GORTYS was sworn to secrecy about Angel’s origins. 

Moxxi taught Angel bartending once she’d reached an acceptable age. On top of the various activities with Moxxi, Angel also trained vigorously with Maya each day, honing her siren abilities to razor sharp power all while waning off a severe eridium addiction. 

Her whole eridium addiction situation used to puzzle her to no end since there was no sensical reason she should be addicted.

Only when she’d grown older and with the help of Maya did she realize just how all that had come about. 

She hadn’t been sick at all, living on Helios. Those tubes and grooves carved in the side of her head weren’t for her benefit or “to keep her healthy.” 

Nah, those tubes were pumping her full of eridium and unbeknownst to her, used her to power the Vault Key. 

This hatched a whole new influx of complicated, hateful, furious emotions towards Hyperion and her father. She was glad the Raiders destroyed that goddamn space station.

Maya was an excellent tutor and within a mere few years Angel grasped the full extent of her abilities at just fourteen years old. She was expectedly eager to get off Sanctuary and take flight of the nest like any antsy teenager. She wasn't sure what path she’d take with her life now that she was free of Hyperion...but knew she at least wanted to venture Pandora. 

Vault Hunter was looking like a pretty viable career path at the moment. Angel had all the best skills for the job. A strong sense of her siren abilities, a connection to eridium and an exceptionally skilled grasp of engineering and machinery thanks to Moxxi, who Angel grew to view as a mother-figure seeing as Angel had accidentally killed her birth-mother all those years ago. 

There may have been one moment where Angel slipped up and referred to Moxxi as “mom”, then had an existential crisis before coming to the conclusion she was adopting Moxxi as her mother. Moxxi was more than happy for the job, she’d already raised two other kids, she knew how to handle Angel, especially in her teen years. 

At nineteen years old, Angel ventured out on her first mission, ordered to knock out an outpost of bandits west of Sanctuary. The outpost belonged to an uprising cultist group known as “the Children of the Vault.” Angel was accompanied by a sixteen year old girl by the name of Tina who had a large affinity for cackling, rude humor and explosives. Angel adored her and the two quickly became good friends. Along with their group came the more experienced sniper Mordecai and the three of them met a lone mercenary woman by the name of Athena who teamed up with them along the way. 

Returning to Sanctuary with success, Angel felt a thrill of happiness she’d completed her first mission. Moxxi expressed a great deal of pride in her adopted daughter. Angel began regularly bopping off and on Sanctuary running jobs for citizens of both Pandora and Sanctuary. 

The Raider leaders, now Maya and Mordecai were searching for a new way to open Jack’s Vault, since the only known powered key had been destroyed in the explosion of Helios. Angel helped on a few raids along with Tina to recover weapons and intel regarding the Vault. 

Angel often returned to Sanctuary with new weapons while rising to more power with each mission. She was growing into a mighty strong, powerful woman. She adorned herself in a brown vest accompanied by eridium laced leather wrapping around her torso stamped with the Vault symbol near her collarbone. A cropped jacket was slung around her shoulders. She had sturdy boots and wore a belt at her waist, hung with weapons. Against her dark, mottled navy pants, a shield was strapped to her right leg, oddly reminiscent of Jack’s style. She braided her long black hair down the left side, leaving the metal grooves exposed on the right side of her skull. Her silvery-blue tattoos spiraled brightly from her collarbone down through the surprising muscles of her biceps to her left wrist. 

She had another piece of leather slapped onto her right wrist, carved with many, many notches. A sensible way to keep track of her kills, taking a knife and carving a notch in the leather with each body dropped. She wasn’t a hot blooded psychotic killer like her father, this was simply the harsh nature of Pandora. 

\----------

A freshly twenty-two year old Angel met a twenty-seven year old Gaige. The red-haired woman had entered Sanctuary with her own robot, Deathtrap. Angel met up with her at Moxxi’s bar, serving her a sparking drink. God, the red-haired woman was real pretty. Gaige explained she was dropping by Sanctuary to pick up a few more jobs and get her Deathtrap repaired. (She gestured to the silver creaky bot not a stool away.) Angel, immediately smitten by the prospect of a pretty girl who not only possessed a cybernetic arm, but a freakin’ robot too, offered to help with repairs. 

Gaige accepted her proposal of assistance with enthusiasm and the two of them grew to be friends in the span of days Gaige was visiting Sanctuary. Gaige even met Angel’s GORTYS and was positively delighted at the prospect of another robot. She and Angel spent many hours together engaged in hearty conversation and for some reason...dashes of teasings and flirtations. 

But how could Angel resist? Gaige was so charming and hoooly shit, she was really fucking attractive, especially covered in soot and grease from working her self-proclaimed mechromancer career all the time. GOD that was hot. Despite Angel’s up-front advances, Gaige was utterly blind. It genuinely took a few good years of doing jobs together and partnering up to hunt Vaults for Gaige to swoon and completely fall for the powerful, (and stunningly hot muscled) siren. This was only the start to a new beginning of years together.

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

The fifteenth anniversary of Helios’s downfall rolled around soon enough.

Now present day, Gaige and Angel stood side by side on the balcony of Raider HQ one pleasant morning, listening to a set of instructions from Maya and Mordecai. According to Crimson Raider intel, there had been a subtle chain of peculiar activity rising in the deserted city of Opportunity. 

As Maya spoke, Angel’s throat constricted and she fought the urge to cough. Opportunity was an old Hyperion city. She only vaguely remembered the name Opportunity as somewhat Jack’s pride and joy. After Helios’s downfall, the Raiders made sure to bomb the everloving shit out of that goddamned city until there was nothing but rubble and shells of crumbling buildings. 

Occasionally a clan of psychos would inhabit temporary residence in the razed buildings but according to Mordecai, this new activity was different. 

“We think it could be the Children of the Vault. They’ve been making moves all across Pandora, gathering forces. Recently, we’ve been noticing some strange waves of eridium power from Opportunity which can only mean the Children. I want you two to go investigate. It’s a stealth mission and you’ll _ only _ gather information so there should be no casualties or fighting…” Maya gave Gaige a long, steely pointed stare. The mechromancer drooped. 

“No cool robot fights?”

“No cool robot fights. Angel, keep your partner in check please.”

“Will do,” Angel beamed, draping her tattooed arm over Gaige and planting an affectionate kiss to her partner’s cheek. Gaige rolled her eyes and enveloped Angel in her arms, locking her cybernetic elbow and tugging the siren closer as she attempted to pull away. Angel frowned but her irritation melted away as Gaige furiously nuzzled her cheek. Maya uttered a sigh and pinched the bridge of her nose. 

“Can you two be professional, for one moment. Please?”

“Yesma’am,” Angel and Gaige both snapped to attention in unison. 

“Thanks. Now to recap: Check out Opportunity, just snooping, no sniping. Then you’ll report back here in...at the most, three days. Sound good?”

“Perfect!” Angel confirmed. Maya turned away to face the morning sunrise. 

“Now get moving.”

–––––––––––

The women departed Sanctuary immediately after. Firing up a Catch-a-Ride down on Pandora’s surface, Gaige hopped into the driver’s seat. Deathtrap and GORTYS strapped into the backseat as Angel slid into the passengers side.

She wrapped a firm grip around the metal support of the runner by the windshield with a grimace. She wasn’t particularly fond of runners and their speeds. 

“Can you drive a little slower this time?” Angel asked gingerly as Gaige flipped the engine switch and the dull hum of the Runner fired up. The red-haired woman glanced over and beamed. 

“Absolutely not!”

Angel rolled her eyes. 

“You’re stupid.”

“And you’re looking gorgeous as ever,” Gaige replied with a grin, jamming her foot into the pedal. 

“Love you too–Ohmygod–!”

\-----––-----

After speeding across the uneven land for about three hours and fighting off several wayward psychos and stalkers, Gaige finally slammed on the breaks and spun to a halt on the outskirts of the rubble of Opportunity. 

“We’re here!” She chirped, hopping from the runner and moving around the back doors to help untangle Deathtrap from the backseat. Angel slid from the passenger's seat relief flowing through her at the solid ground beneath her feet. She wobbled slightly, feeling the after affects of a long runner-ride.

A chilly breeze curled around her bare arms and she suddenly shivered, rubbing her hands together. After collecting her bearings for a moment, she turned around and shielded her eyes against the bright sun to face the city of Opportunity. 

She vaguely remembered old pictures and video feeds of the city, courtesy of Jack. The images had been bright, flashy and full of blue, yellow and silver. 

Now the once-glorious city was nothing but a dusty graveyard. Rusted and a dull musty brown. The grand towering buildings were long since weathered, jagged and crumbling. Hollow skeletons stabbing through the wreckage of skyscrapers were all that was left.

A peculiar emotion settled in Angel’s chest. A mixture of satisfaction and sadness. Satisfaction that Jack got what he deserved, this goddamn city bombed to the ground. Sadness in seeing that he was truly gone: this city, one of many representations of his downfall. 

The rough grating of metal sounded as both Deathtrap and GORTYS whirred into the air to follow Gaige who was stomping across the ground to stand beside Angel. She paused at Angel’s side, breath puffing in the crisp air as she took in the grand view of desolate ruins. Then she cracked her gloved knuckles. 

“Well, it seems pretty abandoned. Kinda weird through, I can’t imagine the Children ever wanting to settle here–I mean–look at the state of this place! Nevermind that, imagine the eridium radiation those bombs left!” Gaige observed, hands coming to rest on her hips. Angel nodded in agreement. 

“Well that eridium radiation is long gone, I can’t feel any of it but…”

She paused, sensing a clear strain of eridium power curling in the atmosphere almost like a faint ribbon of guidance. 

“Mordecai was right. Something’s definitely up with this place. Seems like the Children might be harvesting eridium power. It feels like...A generator...maybe,” Angel murmured, flexing her tattooed fingers and narrowing her eyes. 

“Huh. Well we should knock it out then, dontcha think?”

“This is a stealth investigative mission dum-dum,” Angel punched Gaige’s organic shoulder playfully. 

“Damnit, Maya’s serious-ified you too,” Gaige grumbled. 

“I’m an anarchist. I don’t follow rules from a leader.”

“Yeah? Well you listen to your partner and I’m your partner,” Angel patted her arm. Gaige sighed. 

“I know. Fine. No destruction.”

“Thanks babe, now let’s get moving.”

Shattered glass and rubble crunched under the soles of Angel’s thickly booted feet. As she entered the streets with confident strides, she stalked between buildings suddenly feeling small...so very small compared to the towering jagged skeletons of buildings stretched high above her. Gaige was set on a similar wary edge as well. She whistled for Deathtrap to remain near with her hand firmly locked around the holster of her gun. 

“This place is creepy,” she muttered, gaze lingering on the shattered windows of abandoned buildings. 

“Yeah. Let's do the job quickly, I don’t like it here,” Angel agreed quickly. She herself harbored a twinge of uneasiness. She felt as though she were walking among a ghostly graveyard. To think this used to be such a glorious city back when her father was alive…

The two Vault Hunters paused at an intersection in the crumbling street. Angel lifted her gaze to and study their surroundings. As she felt the connection of eridium give a clear strum in her mind, she pivoted, pointing with a finger towards the opening of an arch into an old abandoned atrium. 

“There. I can feel the eridium stronger over there.”

“Whatever you say.”

Gaige warily trailed behind Angel as the two women approached the ancient crumbling building. The ceiling rose high, holes poking streams sunlight through the dilapidated roof. Skeletal outlines of supports criss-crossed the ceiling, a few steel supports barely hanging on by a thread. The walls had all but been torn down, gaping holes and rubble scattered across the floor. Several green shoots of plants had managed to breath life between cracks. 

Angel suddenly halted causing Gaige to gently bump into her. 

“It’s coming from in there.”

Raising a tattooed finger, Angel pointed across the floor to the other end of the building. There, at the other end was a set of horizontally angled bunker doors. As the two women approached, Angel observed the sliding doors to be made of heavy steel. Although the yellow paint outlining each door was fading and the horizontal strip across the center was peeling, the floor around the doors was surprisingly clear. No rubble or dust. 

This entrance leading underground had been used recently. Gaige brushed past Angel and inspected the doors, tracing her metal fingers against the crack between the two doors. 

“Won’t be able to get this open without a key or I.D or whatever. Unless…” Gaige spun around, waggling her eyebrows. 

“Cool robot powers?”

“No cool robot powers,” Angel stated firmly. She gave a final glance about their dilapidated surroundings. 

“Let’s go check around outside. It’s an underground entrance, that means whatever bunker or place down there needs ventilation from the surface. We can get into it classic style, crawl through the vents,” Angel explained, already turning away and striding out of the ruins, her boots leaving no footprints in the dust. Gaige bounded to her side, their robot companions hovering behind them. 

“Hell yeah! Sounds awesome!”

The two women traversed the perimeter of the building, finding nothing that even remotely resembled a possible vent but Angel was determined.

Although Gaige refused to split up and cover ground faster because “this city is givin’ me the creeps!” Which didn’t exactly help. 

So Angel began to augment the circumference of her search for a ventilation system away from the old crumbling atrium. She extended her search so far she reached the very center of Opportunity and had the unfortunate experience of discovering the old, shattered statue of her father in pieces strewn about the ground. 

She averted her gaze from the destruction as a confusing, gut wrenching sensation tugged at her heart. 

The old fucker had quite the ego didn’t he? Giant statues seemed like overkill in Angel’s humble, bandit, Vault Hunter opinion. 

“Halo! Over here!” Gaige’s voice suddenly reached Angel’s ears. She spun around away from the old statue and spotted Gaige waving from across the way. She instantly materialized at her partner’s side. She glanced down as Gaige gestured to a round grated cover set in the ground. Angel frowned for a moment, studying the manhole. 

Concentrating, she squatted onto her heels and held out a tattooed hand, feeling for more traces of the eridium generator. 

Results came positive. She could feel airflow through the manhole, stale underground air laced with faint ribbons of consistent eridium power. 

“Yeah, this is it,” Angel proclaimed, stepping back and brushing off her hands. 

“Can you open the grate–oh–thanks,” Angel’s eyebrows rose as Gaige eagerly stepped forwards and slipped her metal fingers between the grates, giving a mighty heave. The metal came flying off its bolts with a grating shriek. Gaige grinned proudly before tossing the warped grate aside. 

“There you go, m’lady!”

“Thanks. GORTYS, stay here and watch Deathtrap, he can’t fit down here,” Angel ordered her bot. GORTYS gave a chirp of confirmation. Deathtrap turned towards the smaller robot and extended an arm, issuing a game of Rock Paper Scissors. 

“Nice. Alright, after you,” Gaige proclaimed, staring down into the darkness. The ventilation hole was a perfect circle, five feet in diameter. Rather large, actually. With such a large tunnel the air down in this bunker or whatever must be nice and fresh then. The drop into the tunnel was no less than six feet. Angel slithered into the hole feet first, booted feet slapping the bare metal with a hollow echo. She glanced up through the opening into the bright daylight at Gaige who remained on the surface. Angel issued a thumbs up.

“All clear!”

Gaige immediately dropped down beside her at the confirmation. She strained to peer down either path of the tunnel.

“I can’t see anything–woah!” 

Angel’s tattoos fired up like a human torch. 

“God that never gets old,” Gaige breathed. Angel grinned, raising her white glowing arm and squinting down the right hand pitch black tunnel of the ventilation system. 

“This way, it’s stronger this way.”

As the two girls quietly made their way down the tunnel, Angel felt the pull of eridium grow stronger, clear as day. Yet for some reason, the ribbons of eridium began to strike her as peculiar but she couldn’t quite put a finger on it. 

Moving onwards, the tunnel suddenly issued an abrupt halt. Nothing but a blank metal wall before them. Angel cursed. She could still feel an airflow of eridium...but there was no clear way onwards. 

“Shit!” She exclaimed, whirling around. Gaige seemed excited. 

“Dead end? Great! Now we can just leave this dark spooky tunnel and go back home...maybe have some tea, do some bot repairs, kill some psychos…”

Angel shook her head glancing at the ceiling and surrounding walls. 

“No, we’re close. I can feel it.”

Something suddenly caught her eye. To her right was a three foot tall, four foot wide opening. She squatted down to this smaller tunnel offshoot’s level and peered down the dark yawning crawlspace stretching away from her. 

“Yeah. This looks about right,” she observed, glancing at Gaige who’d lost all former excitement and now dreaded entering a pitch black crawl space. 

“C’mon, it’s not much further,” Angel reasoned in a pleading tone. Gaige remained stubbornly unmoving with a scowl. 

“Please?”

Gaige heaved a sigh. 

“The things I do for pretty girls,” she grumbled. 

“Fine. But this better not be long.”

“No promises but I love you,” Angel offered, grinning. Gaige rolled her eyes. 

“Love ya’ too. Now get going before I get cold feet.”

The two dropped to their knees and gingerly entered the tunnel. As they crawled through the dusty vent, Angel guided the way with her arm acting as a flashlight. To both luck and surprise, this narrow section of tunnel was relatively short. As Angel reached the end of their three-foot tall vent, it yawned open into a spacious, pitch black room with rays of light filtering in from grates scattered across the dark floor. 

“Woah,” Angel breathed, gingerly stepping out into the strangely spacious room. Raising her lighted arm, she observed the ceiling to be nine or ten feet above them. The spanse of the room seemed endless and as she squinted through the darkness, she couldn’t find any visible walls before her or to the side. 

Gaige clambered out of the narrow tunnel behind her and breathed an audible sigh of relief. 

“Oh thank god–I was beginning to worry about spiders in that tunnel. Now–Where the hell are we?”

Angel whirled around and clamped a hand over her mouth. 

“Shhh! I think we’re in the ceiling to the bunker or whatever. My guess is those grates across the floor–” Angel pointed to one of the lighted grates not six feet away. 

“Lead directly down to the place below. Everyone will hear you if you shout like that.”

Gaige mumbled something incoherent against Angel’s palm. Angel removed her hand and intently observed the floor beneath their feet. Solid ceiling tiles that were safe to step on. Well...that was a guess. Hopefully the tiles wouldn’t collapse under the combined weight of both girls. Angel cautiously stepped forwards, gingerly testing the integrity of the tiles. The floor held solidly fast. Gaining more confidence she issued both feet onto the floor square and motioned for Gaige to follow. 

“I can feel the eridium over there,” Angel pointed across into the yawning darkness. 

“Wonderful. Let’s go.”

The two girls carefully made their way in the ceiling, gingerly avoiding the grates of light dotting the floor. An occasional faint voice rose from the grates...men...women...and the sounds of...work. If Angel didn’t know better, it sounded like people were working down here. Yet neither woman dared to take a peek through the grates, fearing being spotted.

Angel set her jaw. Whatever the Children were up to in this underground place, she’d soon find out. 

As the two girls traversed the floor, Angel hung a sharp right, heading diagonally across the floor and following the strain of eridium hovering in the atmosphere. While stepping carefully past another open grate, something halted her stone cold in her tracks. The sound of several voices issued from below the grate bars. 

“Why are you stopping?” Gaige hissed. Angel gave no answer and instead quietly squatted down next to the grate. The thin metal bars of the vent were rusty, flaking and most definitely not stable. Actually none of the grates appeared in good condition so she had to be extremely careful. 

“_ What _are you doing?” Gaige repeated incredulously in a loud whisper, leaning over Angel’s crouched form. 

“Hold on, I wanna hear what they’re saying,” Angel hissed back. She carefully leaned over the grates, extinguishing her glowing tattoos to avoid alertion. Peering with limited view down into the room below, she found a wide corridor, brightly lit by LED lighting. Directly below the grate she could make out the ariel view of a man and woman’s heads’. Angel narrowed her eyes, listening to the woman speak as she curtly handed the man a stack of papers. 

“–ork wants these papers back to him in ten minutes. Go deliver these, he and the other president are in the eridium holding chamber.”

“Yesma’am,” the man replied quickly, slipping the papers into the envelope and immediately brushing past the woman. 

Presidents? Angel was fairly sure the Children of the Vault was a full fledged cult...the followers worshipped two ‘gods.’ President was a strange term for the followers to regard their leaders as. The siren woman quickly found amusement in picturing the two ragged bandit Children leaders in business suits. Presidents...hah! What a joke. 

Angel quickly rose to her feet and glanced at Gaige to relay information. 

“The man down there is headed to an ‘eridium chamber’. Sounds like where we need to be. Help me follow him and keep an eye on the grates,” Angel explained in a low voice, rising to her feet and turning away. She began a brisk stride through the ceiling in the direction the man was traveling. Gaige nodded, stepping faithfully in Angel’s wake. 

Angel hurried to the next grate and leaned over to catch a glimpse of the man below take an abrupt right hand turn. 

“This way,” she whispered, beckoning to Gaige to the right. 

The two stalked the man from the ceiling this way for only a few minutes. With each step Angel felt the eridium presence begin to swell. Oh, they were definitely headed in the right direction. 

As the two women peered intently into another grate, they watched the top of the man’s head as he reached out to punch in an access code to a heavy iron door. 

“Onto the next grate,” Angel proclaimed, lifting her head and spotting the next one several yards away. She nearly let out a triumphant laugh as she observed a faint purple light spewing from this particular grate instead of the usual LED lights of the hall. She turned to Gaige with a smirk. 

They’d found it. This particular vent led directly into whatever the ‘eridium holding chamber’ was. 

Quietly stepping across the floor, Angel grinned. 

“This is it, this is where the eridium is coming from,” she glanced at Gaige who gave a cheerful thumbs up. Angel crept up to the edges of the grate on one side, Gaige flanking the other. Both women carefully leaned over, catching a semi-obscured eyeful of the room beneath them. 

From what Angel’s vision could grasp through the three-by-three square grate, she made out several tubes rising from the carpeted floor, sloshing full of liquid eridium. The translucent pipes gave off a slight, soft and rather comfortable purple glow. The rest of the room was lit by regular lighting. Oddly enough there was a couch pushed off to the nearest wall for some reason. 

There was a man splayed comfortably across on the couch, face obscured by a sizable chunk of paper he was intently pouring over. Metal fingers sharply curled around the right edge of the documents.

The unmistakable sound of a rolling chair sliding across the floor could be heard accompanied by the slap of papers somewhere on a hard surface.

“One of the R&D nerds just dropped off more reports for you.”

“Good,” the man on the couch shortly replied behind the documents clutched in his hands. There was an audible sigh from a second voice across the room. 

“I don’t know why you like working in here so much. All this freakin’ purple makes it feel like an eternal strip club,” the strangely familiar voice from out of frame observed. The man on the couch let out an audible scoff. 

“I’ve already told you, the eridium feels nice. It’s only been here for a month and we haven't been able to get a steady supply in _ years. _”

“Uh huh yeah well that’s dumb and I don’t believe you. I bet you like the fact all this purple makes it feel like a strip cl–”

“Oh shut it. I know you like it, it reminds you of that pretty lighting the stars would make the penthouse,” the man on the couch retorted in a strangely soft tone.

“How dare you suggest I’m _ sentimental. _But you like it here so much so why don’t you just move the whole office into here, eh?”

“Nah, this is much too nice to be an office, this place is much more _ private. _”

“Ah, glad to know we’re thinking along the same scandalous lines–”

“Why do you turn everything into an innuendo?”

“Why do you make so many opportunities for innuendos?”

“Please shut up or make yourself useful and read through these reports yourself. I’m trying to work here,” the man on the couch heaved a grumble and sat upright, tossing the papers away, obviously glaring at the other man, out of sight across the room.

Couch-man’s stature was striking Angel as oddly familiar but from this odd angle viewing the room from above she couldn’t quite get the full extent of his face. She was left in the dark about identity. 

“Have you gotten the other reports from the warehouses in the highlands?” Couch-man asked. 

“Yeah, they came in yesterday while you were out. Their production’s been really slow ‘cause...y’know...the whole secrecy thing.”

Angel leaned forwards with interest. A severe case of curiosity was clawing at her mind. 

Secrecy thing? What did that even mean? Who were these guys? Why did they sound so gut wrenchingly familiar? 

“Even after fifteen years?” Couch-man asked incredulously. 

“Cupcake, you know me. Paranoia’s my bitch–”

“You’re paranoia’s bitch–”

“Last I checked your name wasn’t paranoia–”

“Please just tell me more about the reports–” Couch-man pinched the bridge of his nose with metal fingers. He was clad in a black overcoat, slightly tattered with dark sleeves covering both his arms. 

“–Anyways, the production’s been getting better the past couple months. I mean, we have a steady eridium supply now, we can power this whole facility. Oh–Also we re-claimed one of the old loader bot facilities nearby in the Dust.”

Couch-man suddenly sprung to his feet, excitement running wild in his tone. 

“You’re not pulling my leg?”

“I'm serious this time. Hyperion’s gonna be back in full business soon enough, baby.” 

Angel’s blood ran cold. She sucked in a shaking breath, whirlwinds of thoughts tearing through her mind. Hyperion? Hyperion was _ dead. _

The company had died and fallen and been stomped and ground into dust.

A mixture of panic, fear and confusion twisted a tight knot in Angel’s chest. She must have misheard–

“Hyperion’s been dead for years. After that H got blasted out of the sky I thought everyone disbanded cause Handsome Jack died,” Gaige whispered in a mildly confused tone, glancing across the grate at her partner. 

Angel’s thoughts suddenly pulled together by the string of a mental sewing needle connecting answers to questions about everything happening at this moment. She knew the voices speaking below her and she had answers as to why she had such a gut wrenching tug of emotions in her chest. 

She clenched her jaw, tattoos flickering with high strung emotion. Gaige gazed at her with concern. 

“You alright–?”

“–I’m...I’m fine,” Angel forced herself to breathe despite the overwhelming influx of emotions crashing over her head. 

She knew exactly who was below them beyond the grate in the room at that very moment. 

But Gaige didn’t know who was below them. Angel kept her Hyperion heritage secret from _ everyone, _ including Gaige _ . _Right now Angel was treading a fine line between her blood family and her true family, the family of her bandit home on Sanctuary and her life with Gaige…

“Just a couple more minutes and then we should get out of here,” Angel propositioned in a strained tone. Gaige cast her a concerned look but nodded in agreement, not pressing further.

Angel leaned forwards and turned her attention back to grate, straining to hear the next snippets of conversation below. 

“–w long?”

“Few months. Then we’ll have the weapons to get more resources and start the production again. Hire more employees...in two years we could have Helios back in the sky again–”

Helios. The very name sent a horrible jolt of emotions rocketing through Angel. She forced her feelings down and felt her throat constrict. Angrily, she continued to glare through the grate. She needed to focus. This was an important mission, she and Gaige needed to hear more information so they could relay to Maya that Hyperion was still alive after all these years. 

While leaning forwards and straining to peer farther into the room, Angel mistakenly placed her hand on the grate, shifting her weight forwards on her palm. 

The grates were old and rusty, teetering on the verge of disintegration. 

All Angel heard was a sharp crack of splintering metal before she was suddenly tumbling in an unexpected blur out of the ceiling. The ground rushed up beneath her and she hit the floor with the metal grates crushed underneath her body. In a momentary stunned daze, she lay face-up on the floor, breath knocked from her lungs as she tried to orient herself.

_ Oh fucking shit. _

Realization shot through Angel and she scrambled upright, bounding to her feet with fear coursing through her veins as she eyed her surroundings. The room wasn’t terribly large...more of a living-room size. 

In an instant she had her tattooed hand curled into a fist at her side, white hot fire curling between her fingers. There was an audible thud as Gaige immediately dropped down to her side, guns in hand and bouncing on her heels at Angel’s side. The red-haired woman held a snarl, spinning around to point her blasters around the room. 

“Oh–What the–!”

Couch-man whirled around with a surprised exclamation to face the two room-crashers. Now facing Angel, she caught the full detailed view of his face. He was grasping a familiar looking pistol, pointed towards the two women. A left, electric blue eye pulsed lightly, blue holographic screens streaming from the man’s right cybernetic palm. 

“Fucking–Opportunity defense code four-point-one–” he shouted into his palm, not taking his eyes off of Angel. 

Angel kept her eyes stony and glued to the cybernetic armed man standing before her with a loaded gun. Eyeing the room in her peripherals, she tensed as adrenaline pumped through her veins. The only men in the room were herself, Gaige and the man before her. Yet there’d clearly been two voices down here in this room so where was the other? Where was...J–

“You bandits mind telling us how you got here before we blow your brains out?” A voice hissed almost laughingly from behind Angel. She whipped around just in time to see Handsome Jack materialize from thin air, jamming his pistol against Gaige’s temple. The mechromancer froze, her expression twisted into furious defiance at being caught off guard. 

“Who the hell are you? You aren’t the Vault Children,” she growled, slowly twisting to face the man with a gun pressed to her skull. 

“Seriously? Who am _ I–?– _ Rhysie are you hearing this–Who am _ I? _” Jack glanced up across the room to cast Rhys an incredulous look. Rhys shrugged, his eyes shifting off Angel for an instance. 

Angel’s heartbeat roared in her ears. 

“Everyone’s forgotten about you, asshole, no one cares,” she spat, shifting her arm to level her blaster onto Jack while seething anger boiling in her veins. _ Nobody _pulled a gun on her girlfriend like that, not even her own dead fucking father’s ghost.

Because Jack was dead. He’d died in the Helios explosion. Right?

Jack’s very-much-alive bi-colored gaze flicked up from Gaige. As his eyes locked with Angel’s, recognition flickered in his gaze and the wide smarmy grin across his mask drooped. A light in his eyes dimmed. 

“You...”

He didn’t have a chance to finish his revelation before Gaige moved in a blurry flash and slammed the butt of her pistol into his stomach. Jack stumbled back with a growl, wincing in pain and clutching his gut. He ignored the mechromancer, attention hooked on the other woman. His haunting eyes never broke Angel’s gaze, not for a moment. 

“Hey!” Rhys leveled his pistol and sent several shots whistling past the women’s heads. Angel grabbed Gaige’s metal arm and pulled her away from Jack. 

“That’s–That’s Handsome Jack!” Gaige exclaimed incredulously. Then her expression hardened. 

“They couldn’t kill you fifteen years ago, huh? That’s a shame–” as Gaige lunged forwards, pistols raised, Angel used all her strength to yank her furious partner backwards. 

“Stop! Stop! Everyone cease fire for a fucking minute!” Angel shouted in a commanding voice as a mixture of anger and panic flooded through her chest while she struggled to keep Gaige at bay. 

Jack lowered his pistol and swaggered across the room to stand beside Rhys, his smarmy grin replaced by an utmost expression of...nothing. Absolutely nothing. His mask was slightly weathered with age and impossible to read. Rhys’s jaw was squared and he was squinting furiously at both Angel and Gaige with an almost confused expression. 

“Angel…” Jack began slowly a strange note wavering in his voice. He holstered his weapon back at his belt. Blinking in surprise at his cease-fire movement, Angel straightened up, likewise tucking her own pistol away. 

They’d handle this like civilized men, no need for guns. 

“You...you’re alive...and you’re...you’re all grown up,” Jack breathed, gesturing obviously at Angel across the room. He seemed to be in a rare fit of loss for words. Rhys cast a quick glance towards Jack before he lowered his pistol and turned back to the women across the room.

“Angel? You’re alive?”

Angel tilted her chin upwards, eyeing the two men balefully as she crossed her arms. 

“Yeah. Not like you gave a shit though, never stopped to wonder how I was doing when that station exploded,” she cracked a hollowly amused grin. Gaige cast her a quick confused glance. 

“Uh–is there a...history I should know about here?” She asked curiously, indignance and a dash of anger in her tone. Nobody in the room bothered to answer her query. 

“Well…that battle for Helios was a rough day for everyone,” Jack winced with a shrugging grin. Angel’s anger bubbled at the sight of him. 

“Yeah. I’d imagine. I mean, you two fucking _ died– _”

“Watch the language, babyc–”

“Shut the fuck up. You don’t get to call me that anymore, you dick,” Angel spat, tattoos glowing white hot as the bottle that held her pent up fury for so many years began to crack. Jack raised his hands in surrender. 

“Yeah–yeah, you’re all grown up now, I know–”

“I'm so sorry, Angel,” Rhys spoke over Jack’s scoff. His eyes were heavy with guilt. 

“We were sure everyone was dead...it was...a hard time...we assumed...you...were dead...too…” he winced, rubbing his neck. 

Rhys was always pleasantly agreeable. Angel had always found him likeable when she was a kid. 

She composed herself, taking several deep breaths as the blinding light of her tattoos faded back to a faint pulse 

“I could say the same for you two,” she countered, clearing her throat. 

“I’m only alive ‘cause of GORTYS. She got me off the station in time,” Angel explained shortly, crossing her arms stubbornly and glaring furiously at Jack who suddenly took up an extreme interest in the carpet under his shoes. Beside him, Rhys let out a tension-loosening chuckle. 

“Jack always underestimated GORTYS. Is she here right now?” Rhys asked, lightening the tone and peering up into the ceiling through the hole Angel had fallen through.

Angel shook her head. 

“Shame, would've liked to say hi,” Rhys sighed. 

“So...how did you two survive Helios? I had a super-robot and you had...what? A couple pistols against a siren and the vacuum of space?” Angel suddenly flipped the question. 

Jack suddenly raised his eyes from the carpet, a lopsided grin returning to his mask. 

“I killed Lilith. You remember her...right? Red hair, annoying way of speaking? Siren?”

“She was a hero,” Angel retorted automatically, challenging her father. Jack snorted and waved a loose hand.

“Bandits have brainwashed you too haven’t they? Sad. So anyways, I shot her in the head. Took my gun, put it right underneath her throat–” 

“Less details. I don’t care how you did it,” Angel interjected coldly as Jack began to chuckle. He rolled his eyes with a short raucous laugh.

“Your loss! You’re gonna miss the best part of the story–but whatever. So siren deaths are important because after death their powers transfer to the next person yadda-yadda,” Jack continued, gesturing vaguely into the air.

A cold pit of dread settled in Angel’s stomach at his words. Oh no...Jack didn’t mean…?

“You’re a siren now?” She gaped with incredulous horror at her father. Jack snorted. 

“Hell no. That’s–”

“–Me,” Rhys interjected, turning the eyes in the room to himself. 

“Her powers transferred to me after I died. I have no idea why or how, considering sirens are only female...but here we are,” Rhys shrugged as Jack placed a hand on his shoulder. With a cybernetic hand Rhys pushed up the fabric on his flesh arm. 

Many years ago, Angel vaguely remembered Rhys having extensive blue tattooing but before her eyes right now at this moment, the ink in his arm had clearly shifted or evolved. Intricate twisting lines and curls swirled all the way up his arm. 

Real siren tattoos. To further prove his point, Rhys yanked down the collar of his shirt to reveal the siren mark on his collarbone, a swirling hump with the dot in the middle. 

“You’re a siren now…?” Angel could barely process Rhys’s words. So that was why the eridium ribbons she followed through the city felt so weird. They came from Rhys, a siren. 

She glanced back towards Jack. 

“So then what happened?”

Jack shrugged. 

“I have no idea, I blacked out. Ask the siren.”

Rhys opened his mouth to answer Angel’s question before she had the chance to question him.

“I'm not sure what happened either, honestly. Helios’s massive destabilizing eridium core boosted my powers, I’m pretty sure I did some unconscious siren mojo thing and phasewalked down to Pandora with Jack in tow. Hurt like a bitch,” Rhys recalled, raising his eyebrows.

“So...I've been trying to figure out my powers and me and Jack have been laying low ever since.”

Angel opened her mouth to respond when Jack cut in. 

“Great. You’ve heard our cool story, now what about you?” Jack interjected, pointedly questioning Angel.

“Who's your lady bandit friend? I thought you’d know better than to make friends with bandits,” Jack raised an eyebrow. 

“I’m not afraid like you are. I’ll make friends with anyone. Even Pandorans, dipshit. They’re actually very nice. Besides, this isn’t my friend, she’s my girlfriend.”

“Oh wonderful. Been taking good care of my Angel then?” Jack ignored his daughter’s jabs and turned his piercing, masked gaze towards Gaige who’d remained silent throughout the whole exchange. She glared back stubbornly, face flickering with confusion as Jack studied her.

“I like her, she seems rowdy. Good fit for you,” Jack raised an eyebrow, glancing at Angel. He turned his attention back to Gaige and stuck out a rough hand. 

“Hello, bandit. Nice to meet you–well not exactly nice but you get the point. I’m the dad,” Jack grinned wickedly.

Angel physically froze, ice cold fear flooding her veins. Oh. Wonderful. Now Gaige knew Jack was her father. Angel cautiously glanced at her partner and gingerly awaited for Gaige’s reaction, fearing the worst. To her surprise, Gaige hesitated for only a moment before she seized Jack’s hand and gave his fingers a tight, aggressive shake. 

“Nice to meet you, sir. I'm gonna be honest, I’ll kick your goddamn ass if Angel tells me to. I can see she doesn’t like you much,” Gaige beamed brightly green eyes sharp with a wicked grin to rival Jack’s. Jack snorted, removing his hand from the handshake and wiping his fingers on his pant leg. 

“Great to know. Angel, where on earth did you find a bandit like this? I don’t even know her name and she’s already threatening me, Handsome Jack!”

“My name’s Gaige,” the mechromancer interrupted. 

“Gaige what? You a celebrity or do you have a last name?”

“Gaige Strongfork.”

Something in the room’s eridium energy crackled. Angel jumped at the sudden spark and whipped around to stare at Rhys, who was gazing at Gaige with a wide-eyed expression. A strange familiarity glittered in his eyes. Angel noted his metal fingers clicking together and a faint blue pulse emanating from the sleeve concealing his siren ink. He opened his mouth in an almost stunned manner. 

“...Gaige?”

“Do I know you, twink?” Gaige snapped, placing her hands on her hips and squinting unknowingly at her older brother from across the room. 

“Fyrestone? Do you remember the night the psychos came what...about twenty five years ago?”

“Barely. Kind of hard to remember being a six year old, y’know? Were you another kid living in town? The names are all kinda hazy, everyone got eaten so it’s a bit difficult,” Gaige scratched at her pigtail with a mildly thoughtful expression. 

“Well...not everyone was eaten. There’s you, obviously and then there's me...Rhys...Strongfork.”

The effect was immediate. Gaige went ice-cold frozen, staring at Rhys with a wide-eyed expression. A turmoil of emotions flickered behind her eyes. Gaige wasn’t as skilled at bottling up emotions as Angel. There was a moment of silence throughout the room and Angel gingerly glanced between Rhys and the mechromancer before Gaige exploded into shaking laughter. 

“Rhys? Holy shit! I can barely remember you but yeah! You always snuck me to the Catch-A-Rides since mum said I was too young,” she cackled, pointing with a cybernetic arm at her brother wearing a similar metal limb. 

“You were always the cool older brother.”

“Oh my god, Gaige it’s really you,” Rhys breathed in a stunned daze, a disbelieving smile creeping across his face. Gaige recovered from her fit of laughter and straightened up, pointing towards her brother. 

“I can’t believe a little town boy like you turned into–what–hanging out with Handsome Jack? How’d that happen? You’re not rich!”

“Uh...well actually I’m–uh...I'm Jack’s co-CEO...”

Gaige stared at him incredulously. 

“How the fuck did that happen? All you know how to do is wire Catch-a-Rides! How in hell did you become–”

“Yeah Rhysie, how _ did _ you become my co?” Jack chimed in, giving Rhys’s lapels a firm, smarmy pat. 

“Uh...Well…I was uh...his personal assistant,” Rhys began, lightly pushing Jack away as he attempted to drape himself over Rhys’s shoulders. 

“Boring!” Jack booed. 

“Yeah and then–.”

“–then you kissed me–”

“Yeah...So now...we’re CEO’s together,” Rhys finished, clearing his throat, silencing a smug Jack with a short glare. 

“Oh so you married him!” Gaige figured. 

“Incredible! Here I am fucking Handsome Jack’s daughter and there’s my long lost big bro fucking Hyperion himself!” Gaige wiped a tear of mirthless laughter from her face. 

“Come here you–” Gaige marched right on over to Rhys, boots stomping along the carpet. She was considerably shorter than him but her height did nothing to prevent her from wrapping her strong bandit arms around his torso, squeezing him tight. Rhys laughed, tousling a flesh hand through her rough, fiery pigtails. 

“Never gave up the hairstyle, eh? You don’t look a day over six!” He grinned. 

“And you ended up looking like a corporate dick! Wow, it’s good to see family after twenty six odd years,” Gaige proclaimed with a wavering tone of relief before burying her face in the dark fabric of Rhys’s jacket. 

Angel and Jack were left to glance at each other after observing the Strongfork sibling reunion. Jack raised an eyebrow and quirked his head to the side, motioning to the two Strongforks suffocating in a tight embrace beside him. 

“Y’know..we could have one of those nice family reunions. Come here and hug me.”

“Not a chance, asshole.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading holy fuck!!! All the comments and everything that's happened and the support i got for writing this thing the past five months has been incredible and i love each and every one of you!!!!!! Ive never written any fanfiction before but oh boy was this fun.  
I don't have any other writing in mind at all, I'll probably never write anything like this again. 
> 
> BUT please drop any rhack prompts or headcanons in the comments or shoot me a message on [tumblr](https://soliusss.tumblr.com/post/613043907785310208/gues-who-just-finished-writing-the-180k-word-fic) and maybe someday in the near future I'll throw together a few different rhack stories cause I love this ship so much. 
> 
> Anyways, you're all so incredible and words cannot express how much I appreciate each and every one of you for commenting and reading, thank you so much it's motivated me so much. So sincerely I'm thanking you all so much this has made me so happy. Feel free to message me on tumblr or instagram to talk about borderlands stuff or rhack because I have a severe hyperfixation :]  
-Solius


End file.
